Wishes and English Angels
by bufffycat
Summary: Italy wants nothing more than to make Germany happy, but it seems that no matter what he does, he just can't quite live up to Germany's soldier standards. However, he's given the chance to change all that with the appearance of a grumpy angel who will him to allow him to wish for anything, including changing himself. 2P! characters, GerIta with a few slight Spamano hints
1. Chapter 1

Italy sniffed as he sat by himself outside his home. Romano was spending the night at Spain's house and Italy was glad for it. His brother would be no help since he didn't approve of the reason behind Venciano's troubles this evening.

Italy, in all honesty, did try his hardest to please Germany, but everything he did seemed to fail. Training that day had ended poorly and resulted in Germany calling it quits and sending him home early. The blonde had even snapped at him when the Italian suggested using the extra time for a pasta dinner, storming off and leaving Italy alone on the training field.

And this was how Italy had come to find himself sitting in the garden behind his house crying softly. No amount of food could seem to take his mind off of the disappointed look Germany had given him when he failed to complete the tasks laid out. He couldn't do push-ups, had no hand-to-hand combat skills (well, any combat skills, really), and his best tactical maneuver was retreating. Germany was starting to wear down every time Italy called him for help with his shoelaces and Italy couldn't remember the last time he had seen Germany smile at him, no matter what he had done to make up for his failures. It was starting to worry him that perhaps Germany had finally grown tired of him.

Italy dragged his sleeve across his face, although the motion did little to stop the flow of tears or the miserable thoughts that plagued him. "If I could be better, Germany, I would be." Italy said out loud, though there was no one around to hear him. "If I could find a way to change, I would be the best soldier you have ever seen! I wouldn't run away, and I'd back you up no matter what because you are my closest friend and I care about you and I don't want to see you get hurt because of me. I wish I wasn't so cowardly. I wish I was stronger like you. I wish I was smarter. I… I just…" Italy put his head down on his arms and whispered, "I wish things could be different."

There was sudden popping noise and Italy was no longer the only one in his back garden. Another figure appeared just in front of him, standing on the grass and looking slightly disoriented. Italy studied the new arrival in confusion. Whoever it was wearing tan laced sandals that reached his knees and a pale tunic. Two large feathered wings were outstretched from the stranger's back, flexing lightly as the breeze ruffled a few of the feathers. Continuing up, Italy stopped on the man's face and his breath caught in his throat. Large eyebrows overshadowed emerald green eyes beneath a disorganized mop of straw colored hair. Italy knew this person. He feared this person. England.

Italy started screaming, curling himself up to be a small as possible and crying harder than he was before. "Please, Mr. England, sir! Don't hurt me! You wouldn't hurt me, would you? I'm so pathetic! And please don't feed me anymore of your terrible scones! I'll tell you whatever you want, just please not the scones!"

England paused, looking both confused and a little irked at the mention of his food. "As much as I could use the information on what you and Germany are doing, I'm here on a different matter." England paused again, realizing that Italy couldn't hear him over the sounds of his own screams. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you, so could you please stop? You're starting to hurt my ears." When he found himself ignored again, England frowned. "I have a cup of tea waiting for me at home and the longer this takes, the colder it's going to get, so can we hurry this along?" Growling a few curses under his breath, England shouted, "Shut up!"

Italy quieted, however he was still trembling and crying as he looked to the other nation. "Finally, that's much better." England rubbed at his head before continuing. "As I said before, I'm here for a different matter. You were in a sorry state and making wishes, so I am here to grant you a wish. And when I'm like this you can call me Britannia Angel."

"Britannia Angel?" Italy stared at the angel standing in front of him, looking slightly perturbed at being called to Italy's home on his evening off. "How come you've never said anything about being an angel before?"

Britannia Angel grimaced. "It's a side thing. Made a deal with someone a long time ago and that's not important. Part of the deal is that no one is to know about it."

Italy, if possible, looked more confused. "But I know now."

"Once you make your wish you will not remember our meeting. That's how it works. Now," The angel straightened his tunic and looked down on the little Italian. "What is it that you wish for? And make it snappy. Tea getting cold and all."

Italy thought about. There were lots of things he could wish for. Pasta came to mind, as did a life-long siesta, but then he recalled Germany and the earlier event and he started feeling sad once again. More than anything, he wanted Germany to be happy with him. Feeling determined at his wish he looked up at the angel once again. "I know what I want. I want to be the type of soldier Germany wants me to be; no longer afraid but able to fight with him. Someone who can tie his own shoelaces and won't make pasta in the middle of the desert. I wish to be the opposite of who I am."

Britannia Angel looked startled. "Are… Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I am." Italy nodded and the angel gave a sigh.

"Alright." Britannia Angel moved his hand allowing a wand to appear and grasped it. "Then, I will grant you your wish. I hope it all goes well for you." He waved his wand and uttered a few words and Italy saw a bright flash that knocked him over. The angel looked down at the Italian that was unconscious on the ground, then shook his head and with another pop had disappeared; leaving no trace that he was there in the first place.

Italy was asleep for a little over an hour before he stirred. Unable to recall why he had fallen asleep outside, he stood and stretched, making his way back indoors to properly get ready for bed. He paused while brushing his teeth to admire his reflection, especially his brightly glowing fuchsia eyes. He smirked slightly as he finished and headed for his bedroom. Tomorrow was going to be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

Germany awoke feeling less rested than he had when he had gone to bed. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, thinking things over and never settling down enough to gain those precious few hours of sleep. Italy had been, well, Italy and he was angry at the fact that instead of acting like a soldier, the small brunette wanted to run away to play with cats and pick flowers. And the clinging. Italy would always need Germany there for everything and would show up uninvited, intruding on the German's private moments. There really was only so much that one man could handle.

And yet, though he was angry, he was upset at the hurt look on the other's face when he hadn't been able to live up to Germany's demands. Germany wasn't sure what that was about, either it was guilt or simply something he had eaten last night. Prussia had been in charge of dinner after all.

With a groan, Germany rolled out of his bed and brushed his hair back out of his face. He glanced at the other side of the bed, just to check that the Italian hadn't slithered his way into the bed with the blonde. Next came the check of the closet while Germany found clothing for the day, behind the shower curtain when he went to use the bathroom, and beneath the kitchen sink when he went to start the morning coffee. So far Germany's day was Italian free.

It would be another day of training, and Germany poured himself a second cup to help him make it through the day. He opened the fridge to check that he still had beer on hand for when training was done and looked through his cupboards to find the makings for pasta. You know, in case training went well and Italy wanted to cook for him. And Italy would usually offer.

Germany looked over his planner, scanning the list of things he wanted to accomplish that day with training. He had noted at the top that today was a day Japan would join them. Perhaps between the two of them they would be able to teach Italy something. He sincerely doubted it though.

He took another slow sip of his coffee while he thought and there came a soft knock on his door. Carrying the mug, Germany crossed his home to the door to answer it and Japan stood on the other side, dressed formally and calmly looking at the taller nation. "Ohiyogozaimasu Germany-san."

"Gutten Morgen Japan." Germany stepped to the side to allow the man inside and led the way to his kitchen. "Would you like coffee?"

"Iie, I do not need it." Germany nodded, finishing his cup full and quickly washing it in his sink.

"I have the plans for today's training here." Germany passed the paper to Japan and straightened his stack of paperwork. "I have told Italy to meet us at the training field this morning and I am hoping that you can assist in training as today we will be working on combat and he will not want to participate."

Japan nodded, reading over Germany's list. "Hai, but Germany-san, wouldn't it be best if we were to call Italy-kun first so he remembers to join us?" Japan set the paper back on the counter and looked up at the blonde with a meek smile. "He can be quite forgetful at times."

Germany placed a hand to his temple and groaned. "You are right. I'll give him a call first." Japan watched plainly as Germany dialed Italy's number and held the receiver to his ear. He let the phone on the other end ring several times before he sighed and hung up. "I cannot get a hold of him. Let's move to the field and hope that he's there waiting for us."

Japan nodded and followed Germany as they made their way outside. The sun was climbing steadily with the promise of good weather as the pair walked silently to the training field. Germany kept his thoughts and worries about their missing brunette friend to himself while they traversed the short distance; it wouldn't help to get worked up when Italy was most likely chasing some pretty girls rather than recalling that he needed to attend training. As the two stepped onto the field they heard a sound of annoyance near them.

"Took the both of you long enough; you had me waiting here for 20 minutes." Italy rolled his fuchsia eyes. "Any longer and I was going to go home."

Germany froze as he stared at his Italian friend. He had never heard Italy use this tone of voice before nor arrived to anything promptly. Something with his friend seemed off. Italy had replaced his usually blue uniform with a tan one and his hair seemed different though Germany couldn't quite place what made it different. The most startling difference was that Italy now had his eyes open to reveal a rather strange color tint. Perhaps this had been why Italy had always kept his eyes closed, to hide the unnatural color? They rivaled that of his brother's.

"Italy-kun, are you alright?" Japan asked, puzzled by his friend's state.

"Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?" Italy scoffed, straightening from where had been leaning against the shed they used to store training equipment. "Let's get started. What do you have for us today, Germany?"

Germany felt as though he had been caught off guard, stumbling as he tried to regain control of his thoughts. "Uh… Right. Today we will be focusing on combat techniques. If you would follow me." Germany led the way across the field to an open area best suited for today's purposes and Italy followed behind coolly, watching the German's back with a determined expression. Japan came last, worry starting to show beyond his normally passive mask.

"You will start out sparing with me, Italy. " Germany commanded, removing his jacket and facing the brunette. "I want you to get into the defensive position we practiced and prepare for when I come at you. You will start out defending."

The Italian hummed in thought as he raised his hands, his eyes determined and small smile on his lips. Germany paused, unnerved by his friend's smile. It was off, and not the usual cheerful grin of the nation. This one seemed slightly sadistic. He frowned when he realized that Italy wouldn't protest the fighting, and hoped that this meant that he understood why they needed to practice.

Germany approached his friend, fists raised, and gently swung them in the direction of the brunette, careful to avoid hurting him when the Italian panicked. Instead, Italy easily side stepped the swings, looking directly into Germany's bright blue eyes with an evil smirk. He knew Germany was holding back, and he was challenging him.

Germany aimed the next swing lower, Italy parried it to the side. He made a quick jab, Italy turned to allow it pass him harmlessly. Germany proceeded to attack the small brunette, though nothing he did seemed to touch the nation. Finally, Germany called it quits, signaling the other to stop. Breathing heavily, he turned to replace himself where he had started, noticing Japan's intrigued look where he watching from the sidelines. "Good. Next, Italy, you will attack me. However I will give you a moment to-"

Germany fell to the ground as his knee was kicked out from underneath him. He was stunned, unsure what had happened until he found himself on his back with Italy perched on top of his chest holding a small knife to the blonde's throat. Germany could do nothing but stare, mouth agape, as the brunette nation chuckled.

"I really am honored how much you trust me, Germany." Italy purred, raising a gloved hand to run along Germany's cheek. "But you made it much too easy. Not only did you turn your back on me, but you wore yourself out trying and failing to hit me. Pity really, I know you are capable of so much more." Italy leaned close to Germany, pressing his face against the other's cheek so his mouth was next to the blonde's ear. "You don't believe I'm capable of such things, do you?" He whined as his tongue darted out to quickly slide along warm skin. " That's where your greatest mistake lies." Germany's eyes widened, as Italy pulled back, fuchsia gaze studying the shocked face of the man beneath him. "I suppose a reminder of how dangerous I can be is in order."

Germany didn't have time to register what was happening before he felt the sting on his cheek. He gasped and winced, bringing a hand to his face and feeling the gloves he wore soaking up the blood flowing from the small cut. Italy was already standing, looking down at the blonde and shaking his head as though slightly disappointed. "If either of you need me, you know where to find me. I suggest you use this time to train before calling me again." And without a second glance, Italy turned and left the field, leaving the two shocked nations in his wake.

^v^

_AN: Thanks to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed!_


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't understand! What is the matter with him?!"

"Please, Germany-san. Calm down." Japan tried to hand the bandage to Germany, but the man had yet to settle down since they arrived back at his home.

Austria had joined them in the kitchen and brought along the first-aid kit once they had arrived, but when he had learned of Italy's strange behavior had gone silent and his face stoic. Germany was ignoring him for the time being because despite knowing Italy well, he was also at a loss for what was happening. The blonde had begun pacing back and forth across the room continually muttering about how he didn't understand.

"If I may just put this on…" Japan held out the bandage again and it going unnoticed.

"He was normal yesterday, how could he have changed so much in one day?!"

Austria shook his head from where he sat. "Perhaps something happened to him yesterday? Did you notice anything unusual happening?"

Germany paused in his walking to growl at Austria. "There was nothing! He was just as weak yesterday as he is any other day!"

A bright flash went off that startled everyone in the room and was immediately followed by loud obnoxious laughter. "Kesesesese! West! Your face looks terrible!" Prussia fell into the room clutching the camera he had most likely pilfered from among Japan's things. "Remind me to shake whoever's hand it was that managed to do that!"

Germany began to shake in rage, but his otherwise stilled movements allowed Japan to place the bandage across his cheek and quickly retreat away from the fuming nation. "Then you have Italy to thank for this."

Prussia, who apparently hadn't been following any of the earlier conversation, looked genuinely shocked. "Cute little Italy did this to you?" He paused for a moment more and his face pulled into a crooked leer. "Lost your touch, have you, West?"

"Prussia, if you are not going to be of any help then I ask that you leave!" Germany snarled, roughly pulling out one of his chairs and collapsing in it. "We need to figure out what to do about this."

Prussia tilted his head before pulling out another chair and taking a seat at the table. "It was an accident though, right? Italy wouldn't… couldn't… right?" His pink eyes glanced to the others looking for help.

Germany sighed and looked at his brother. "He did. And he meant to do it too."

"But isn't this a good thing?" Austria spoke up. "You've been training him very hard, and now he is finally a worthy opponent. Shouldn't you be patting yourself on the back and sending him up against the allies?"

Japan nodded slowly from beside him, his eyes continually flickering to the camera resting beside Prussia. "He is right… It would be most helpful if Italy-kun was a better fighter…"

"But like this?" Germany questioned, staring at each of them in turn. "This isn't Italy. This is….something else entirely. Who knows what kind of trouble this can cause. Besides, it was so sudden! He simply changed overnight!"

"It's strange, yes." Austria agreed, "but I cannot stress enough how much more use an Italy who won't run away from battle is."

"Tr…true…" Germany admitted his chin lowering as he thought about it. This whole situation was a mess and he couldn't think of a way for this to get any worse.

"What the hell have you done to my stupid little brother, you damn macho potato bastard!"

Apparently it could get worse.

Germany lifted his head narrowly avoiding it being hit with a tomato that flew across the room and collided with the wall behind him. His stunned expression quickly melted into one of agony as he found the darker haired Italian standing in the doorway with an armful of tomatoes and a sour expression. "I haven't done anything."

"Shut up!" Romano screeched, threateningly lifting another projectile. "My brother came home today and he isn't right. I know you had something to do with it, and I want you to fix it!"

Germany's eyes slid over to the others looking for any help and finding none. Prussia had taken cover beneath the table, Japan had shrunken back with an apologetic smile, and Austria just looked angry. "I had nothing to do with Italy's behavior. And don't make a mess of my kitchen!"

"Of course you had something to do with it!" Romano cried, frowning further and taking a step forward. "All Veneciano wants to do is please you and now he's taking it a step too far. Change him back!"

Germany felt the sudden pang that echoed through his chest at Romano's words. Italy always did seem to try his best even with Germany's many demands, and he began to worry if he had taken it all for granted. Romano continued to rant and make demands, and Germany couldn't think of anything to respond to him, especially when the brunette dissolved into tears when he realized that none of this was getting him anywhere.

"Could you perhaps tell us what happened?" Japan asked when Romano seemed his version of calmer (effectively when it seemed less likely that one would be hit with flying fruit).

"Veneciano came home and told me I was weak-minded for hiding behind a Spaniard's skirts." Romano fumed and quickly added, "Which isn't true! And his hair and eyes look wrong. This is probably what happens when you eat too much of your terrible wurst!"

"Hey! Insult us, not our food!" Prussia defended, poking his head out from under the table and then ducking back beneath it with a yelp as another tomato splattered against the table's surface. The camera the albino had been using earlier had mysteriously disappeared in all of the confusion and was safely stowed out of harm's way and Germany scowled at the mess that had been caused. From beneath the table there were mutterings of how there were much worse things to eat; crumpets, biscuits, and tea to name a few.

"Enough!" Germany barked, causing Romano to pause mid-throw. "This is getting us nowhere!"

"He is right." Japan added, stepping forward. "If you would please just calm down we can work together to decide what to do next."

Romano paused and seemed to think this over before making a disgusted face. "I'm not working together with the potato-eaters, but I'll stay and make sure you don't come up with a stupid plan." With the coast clear and the angry Italian moodily leaning against the opposing wall did Prussia find it safe enough to exit his hiding place and rejoin his brother at the table and resume their earlier discussion. "What did you idiots plan on doing about Veneciano?" Romano complained, earning the glares sent his way.

It was quiet as they all thought save for Prussia drumming his fingers along the table slowly driving them mad until he abruptly stopped. "I think we should see how much he's changed and send him into a fight."

"What?!" Romano shouted and was promptly ignored.

"What if…" Germany stopped himself before he could add the "Italy gets hurt?" to the end and shook his head. It wouldn't do him any good to be continually worried about the other's safety.

Prussia continued on oblivious to his brother's inner turmoil. "The Italy we've always known surrenders and runs away. Maybe when he confronts a real battle it will shake him out of whatever it is that's going inside his head!"

Japan looked thoughtful. "It would certainly serve two purposes. I agree to Prussia-san's plan."

They all turned and looked at Germany awaiting his decision and after a long moment he sighed. "I… I also agree to the plan…" He looked up to meet the wide grin of his older brother. "But let's give him something easy, just in case he returns to normal and fails his mission." To this there were several nods and a few muttered curses. "France would be a likely target; easiest out of all of the allies and also closest should we need to rescue him."

"This is stupid!" Romano yelled, jabbing a finger in their direction. "You don't honestly believe that this will work will you?! Have you all lost you warped-sausage minds?!"

Austria frowned and directed his glare to Germany. "Order him to go and we will see what happens."

Germany nodded and stiffly got up to head to his home office. His fingers brushed over the bandage stuck to his cheek as he traversed the short distance down the hall and remembered the crazed smirk of the Italian perched on his chest while he skillfully twirled the small knife in his hands. He mechanically picked up the phone receiver and dialed the well-known number, hoping against hope while it rung that when Italy answered he would be his bubbly self.

"Ciao." The voice on the other end breathed and Germany hesitated when he realized that nothing had changed.

"Italy." He replied firmly and feeling a bit unnerved by the sudden giggle.

"Germany!" The voice purred, "I was hoping you would call. How is the cheek doing? Don't worry about it marring your looks. I think a scar there will make you look more rugged and will match your brawny body."

Germany choked on air at the words and nearly forgot his purpose in calling. "Italy." He repeated, attempting to forget the earlier statement. "I have a mission for you."

"Oh?" Italy questioned, "And what did you have in mind?"

"We would like to make an offensive on France. Would you be able to lead it?" He realized his order came out more as a request, but he was sincerely hoping that the other would turn him down.

"France, hmm?" There was a long drawn out sigh. "Fine, but if only to prove to you that you should trust me more. Ciao, Germany, I'll call you when I'm done." Germany didn't move, not even after the click signaled the end of the call and the tone sounded loudly in his ears. When he finally did react, he slowly placed the receiver back, and turned to find the others crowded around the doorway to his office with curious expressions.

Germany scanned them each in turn and closed his eyes. "He's agreed. Now to see what happens."

^v^

_AN: Thank you everyone for reading, following, and reviewing!_


	4. Chapter 4

An entire day had passed since Germany had heard from Italy and he was beginning to wonder what had happened. His mind kept trying to mull over everything but was seemingly getting nowhere so he tried to keep himself busy rather than dwell on it. He had cleaned his entire house, going twice over the kitchen trying to pry every last tomato seed from the crevices between the tiles. Paperwork demanded his attention that his boss had sent a large stack over and the rest of his time was spent trying to avoid Austria so that he didn't have to wait on the other. All in all, it had been a full day.

But with the setting of the sun he couldn't find any more distractions to keep himself from thinking everything over. He was looking at possibly a third restless night of very little sleep as he moved through his house to switch off the lights. Living room and kitchen set, he began to walk down the hallway towards his bedroom when he found himself paused at the door of his office and it took him a moment to realize why.

Perhaps it was the soldier training that gave him the feeling that there was another presence nearby. Austria should have already been in bed by this time of night, and Germany held his position for a minute straining his ears to for sounds. It was while he was still that he heard the gentle, and near quiet sounds of someone else breathing. That automatically ruled Prussia out as there wasn't his brother's style to remain quiet for so long. This left only one other possibility: an intruder, and one that was currently hiding inside Germany's office.

He stiffened as he approached the door as quietly as he could manage and put his palm flat against the wood. A second to brace himself for whatever lay beyond and he pushed it forward letting the squeak of the hinges shatter the silence.

The light from the hallway spilled into the dark room and despite the minimal illumination of the space, there was no sudden flurry of movement that would come from someone's panic at being caught. Instead it remained eerily quiet as Germany filled the doorway with his imposing figure. Seconds passed before he heard the sound of his desk chair moving and the lamp that was sitting on his desk flickered to life with a clicking sound. The yellowish light illuminated his unannounced visitor and Germany groaned when he recognized the face.

There was always one person who seemed to find ways into his house without ever being caught.

"Ciao, Germany." Italy smiled as he sat back in the chair and brought his feet up to rest on top of the desk."Miss me?"

Germany rubbed a hand over his face, not sure whether to feel relieved, angry, or concerned. No matter how many locks he used or how well he trained his dogs, Italy was the only person he knew of that could bypass every security system to his house just to be nearer to blonde. How he always managed this feat would forever be a mystery, but now that Italy was no longer acting like himself, it crossed his mind if he should hold more concern for his safety. "Italy," he started slowly, fixing a stern glare on the smiling Italian nation, "Why are you here?"

Italy's face held the same smile while they looked at each other carefully without moving and then dissolved into a pout. "Germany, you are so mean! Is that really how you want to welcome me?"

When Germany didn't respond to the brunette's complaint he frowned. "Fine, straight to business then." He sighed as he turned his head away, staring at the wall instead. "I delivered your little message to France." His lips twisted into a strange little grin. "I would say it was conveyed quite clearly."

"Oh… Good." Germany said, taken slightly aback that Italy had managed to complete the mission. "Report to me what happened."

Italy's fuchsia eyes slid over to find Germany. "You really want to know everything?"

"Just stick to the important facts." The blonde informed him.

Italy shrugged nonchalantly. "Of course. I went and paid a visit to big brother France first thing this morning. I've only just come back from his place; ended up spending the entire day playing with him and nearly lost track of the time." Italy closed his eyes as he envisioned the day's events as they had unfolded. "He was rather kind inviting me in so friendly, but he stopped smiling shortly after he shut the front door and had closed me into his house along with him." He paused in his retelling to open his eyes again and look at the unmoving German nation. "Would you like to know more?"

"No, that's fine." Germany told him and Italy shrugged again.

"I see. Well, I should be leaving." Italy decided, pulling his boots from the desk and rising to his feet. "Until tomorrow, Germany."

"Wait a minute." Italy paused and raised a questioning eyebrow. "You are going home?"

Italy's eyes flickered to the side and returned to Germany's face. "That is what I just said."

Germany blinked. "You are not going to beg that I let you stay here? And are you going to stay home and not end up joining me later on in the night after I've already gone to sleep?"

Italy stared and then chuckled. "Oh, Germany, do you wish for me to stay?"

"What? No! Tha-that's not what I…" Germany stuttered.

Italy chuckled again, sidling up to the taller nation and tilting his head back to look up at him. "I will stay, but it will only be if given permission to." He reached out a finger and slid it down the German's broad chest in one long slow motion. "I want you to request me to join you in your bed." He withdrew his hand watching in amusement as the blonde was completely frozen. "Anyway, I was leaving. Buonanotte, Germany. You know my number if you become lonely."

Footsteps lightly made their way down the hall and the front door opened and closed before Germany breathed again, wondering what had just happened.

_AN: Thanks again to everyone who is reading this! Next chapter will be up in a week._

_Just as side not that can be ignored if you wish, the reason why this story is being updated so quickly is because I keep forwarding chapters to a friend first who then bugs me looking for what happens next. The continual prodding keeps me working on this story mostly so then for all of you to enjoy some regular updates.  
_

_However, I feel a need to confess that at times I find it annoying and will often turn to this person and tell them to back off or I will kill off Sealand (who is one of their favorite characters). I was musing with them this week and decided that although I'll keep this story to its historical and geographical inaccuracies (like Italy driving Japan home after a meeting...), I think it's most likely taking place sometime around 1941-ish. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but I'm kinda doubting that they will figure out my bluff (Sealand wasn't built until '43...). I'm a terrible person either way for lying or threatening to kill off children...  
_

_Until next week!_


	5. Chapter 5

France sifted through the wreckage of his kitchen, sighing miserably at the sight of broken glassware strewn everywhere. Anyone passing by would have assumed that his home had been ransacked by a team of thugs when that was far from the truth. And the day and had seemed to hold so much promise.

His morning started off with his usual routines of waking, dressing and preparing breakfast when it was interrupted by a knock at his door. Behind it he had found a widely smiling Italy happily bouncing back and forth from foot to foot. "Big brother France!"

"Italy?" France had asked, opening the door wider and looking down at the brunette with confusion. "What are you doing here? Aren't we enemies?"

The Italians face had fallen a miniscule amount. "Do you not want to spend time with me?"

"What?! No, of course I do!" France tried to cover and felt relief as Italy brightened again. He cast a scrutinizing gaze over the younger nation and particularly on his hair. "You've colored your hair darker?"

"Oh, this?" Italy laughed. "What do you think?"

France had hummed as he studied it. "It looks more like your brother's now."

Had he been paying better attention than he had been, he would have taken better notice of how Italy grimaced for a fleeting moment before returning to a bright smile. And France frowned as he recalled how he hadn't, instead opening the door wider and inviting the Italian to join him inside. Hindsight would always be best, he recalled, righting one of his chairs and collapsing into it. He had never seen it coming, that as soon as his door was closed he would be roughly forced against it.

The images that filtered through his mind of the events that passed over the course of the day made him flinch and he was sure he was going to have nightmares for a long while that involved bright fuchsia eyes and the most sadistic laugh he had ever heard. And now he found he didn't even have wine to drown out the memories of the day.

He gave a hollow laugh as he put his head into his hands. "Look at me; big brother's in quite a state…" France closed his eyes hoping that perhaps this was all a dream and he would wake up to find his home the same as it always was and the Italy he had known waving a white flag outside his window. "I should have known he would have changed some day, my cute little Italy. Apparently this world, and this war has had some sort of effect on you?"

His eyes briefly opened just to note that nothing had changed and he closed them once again and sighed. "This is all rather hopeless, is it not? I just wish there was something to be done…"

There was a strange popping noise and France looked up to find another occupant in his home. Whoever it was facing away from him and he could see two wings extended from this person's back and a small halo hovering above their head. France gasped at the sight; an angel. There was no other explanation for it other than standing before him was a true to life angel-

"Oh bullocks, where the hell am I now?"

An angel with the mouth of an English pirate.

"England?" France asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Britannia Angel whipped around, spotting France sitting not too far away and scowled. "You?! " he growled, "It was you? No, tell me there's someone else here."

"You mean Italy?" France looked away and muttered under his breath, "You just missed him."

"Italy?" The angel straightened and tilted his head. "Why was he here?"

"Boredom? Wanted to visit? Was ordered to by Germany? Take your pick." France leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "I don't think it really matters the reason for what he's done."

"He did all of this?" The angel asked, taking in the extent of the damage all around him.

"This is what he did while I was unconscious…" France stared at the ceiling as it avoided having to look at the other. "While I was awake? Well…" his lips turned into upwards into a weak smile, "How about a change of topic, mon ange. Why are you here in the most revealing of tunics when I normally have to force you into such attire the rest of the time? Unless…" he switched to a large Cheshire cat grin, "you are here for certain reasons of love and lust that only I can provide? Oh, mon ange, que mes baisers soient les mots d'amour que je ne te dis pas."

"That's not why I am here, you twit!" The angel screeched.

France laughed. "Then do you have a better reason? Or has it come into fashion in Britain to wear hemlines that nearly expose one's vital regions?"

"That's not it either!" Britannia Angel yelled, trying to pull the edge of tunic down further. "Whether I like it or not, I'm here to help you."

"Help?" The nation seemed to think about this for a moment. "Well if you want to help, you could start by picking up some of the things that are on the floor." He lazily grinned at the perplexed angel.

"Help pick up…?" Britannia Angel repeated slowly, looking between the strange face France was making and the items on the floor. "Wait, bastard," when he had finally put all the pieces together, "You are just hoping that I'll flash my arse at you while bending over."

"And if you could face that way when you do…" France pointed to the opposing wall.

"You are unbelievable! Is this really all you ever think about?"

"No, not always." France shrugged, "But you cannot blame me for seizing this opportunity while it has presented itself."

"I very well can blame you!" The angel snarled, "You get one wish. I grant that wish, then I leave and we all go back to our normal lives." He paused for a moment and then added, "No, you cannot wish for that!" and enjoyed the deflated look on the other's face.

France twisted a stray lock of hair while he thought of what to wish for. "What would you change about me, mon ange?" he finally said.

"Everything." The angel spat out.

France sighed. "Non, specifics. What don't you like?"

"Your flashy and ridiculous clothes, your stupid notions on love and romance, and your happy and carefree ways of thinking simply running around outside will promote beauty, especially if you do so without clothing." Britannia Angel ticked off on his fingers.

France blinked several times. "Well, I was going to let you wish for me so that I might catch a glimpse of what lay beneath your outfit, but now…"

"Oh, if that's what you want, then who am I to deny you such a wish?" The angel grinned, quickly materializing his wand and pointing it the nation in front of him.

"Ack! Wait! Can't I just wish to not feel the pain from being tortured all day?" France tried, holding up his hands in surrender.

The angel paused, contemplating the request. "Hmm… I can add that in too if you would like."

France thought about it for another minute and nodded grimly. "Do as you wish, Angleterre. I don't think I care anymore."

_AN: Oh dear, this is a bit of a cliff hanger, is it not? Until next week! Thank you everyone for your amazing reviews! I tried to answer all of them and I think I have except for the guest ones but if I forgot yours I'm terribly sorry!_

_mon ange, que mes baisers soient les mots d'amour que je ne te dis pas: My angel, let my kisses be the words of love I do not say  
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	6. Chapter 6

Germany stared at the phone receiver in his hand. He had received a number of strange calls over the years, mostly ones that had arrived from Italy himself and they had generally pertained to his needing rescuing but never had he ever received the request he had just heard. Perhaps he had just misheard it as he gingerly lifted it back to his ears only to rip it away when the voice on the other end started shouting. "Hey? Did you hear me, bastard?!"

"Yes, I heard you." Germany grumbled rubbing at his ear and wincing.

"Well? What's your answer?" The voice demanded and Germany had to pause to think about it which only made the caller angrier. "Listen stronzo, it's a simple answer. Yes or no to dinner at our house?"

The situation was so highly unusual that to the blonde's reasoning, there had to be something wrong. "Romano," Germany whispered into the phone, "are you being coerced in some way? Is England there? If he is, then comment on the weather."

"The weather?!" The Italian screeched and Germany had to hold his phone at arm's length while Romano vented. "I'll tell you about the weather! I hope you walk outside and get caught in hail the size of footballs that knocks your meatball sized brain out! Now, just answer the damn question!"

Germany stiffened. He had mentioned the weather… But all the same, this was Romano and if England was holding him hostage his first call would be to Spain and not him and there would likely be more tears involved. Or so he reasoned and hoped. "Yes, I will attend dinner tomorrow night…?" He answered tentatively, wondering if that was the right answer.

"Good. And don't bother bringing anything; I refuse to eat anything of yours." The call abruptly ended and Germany hung up his phone feeling more confused about Italians than he ever had been before. It had been precisely one day and 16 hours since he had last seen Italy, not that he could name a specific reason for keeping track of such information. After Italy had left the other night, Germany had put in a call to a spy he had stationed in France to go and gather any information on what had occurred. The initial reports were just starting to trickle in and it seemed Italy wasn't lying when he had confirmed his visit to the older nation, however, no one had seen France yet as he seemed to be hiding inside of his home.

His icy blue eyes scanned the notes he had taken when the handler had called. France's car was parked outside his home but all of his windows were covered and there had yet to be any movement behind them or anyone entering or leaving his home. It was beginning to cause Germany some concern; if Italy's chuckling about his visit was anything to go by, France hadn't gotten off easy. He told the man to relay the message to stay back and just keep an eye on things, but now with Romano acting off, he thought it best to see what was happening to the south.

Picking up his phone again he dialed Italy's number and waited several rings for the "Ciao" that was growled through the line at him. "Italy, "Germany asked sternly, twirling his pen in his hand, "I'm only asking because I need to know. Did you kill France?"

There was dead silence before Italy burst into uncontrollable laughter that instantly made the blonde confused. This was hardly a laughing matter and Italy appeared to be treating this as a joke. "Italy!" he snarled through the phone and briefly recalling the times just that would cause the smaller nation to cry and beg forgiveness, "Why are you laughing?"

The laughter stilled, though the tone of his voice was still amused. "I suppose I just found it funny that you had to ask."

Germany waited for the other to continue but no further information was given on the subject. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" Italy asked once the silence had stretched on and become uncomfortable.

"How is Romano doing?" the blonde tried again, wondering how much Italy knew about his brother's request.

"Fratello?" the voice asked suspiciously, "Why do you ask?"

Germany began to scramble as he tried to come up with an answer, mentally cursing himself for not thinking of one before he called. "I… uh… just wanted to know, because… er…" he stuttered, looking for an answer and feeling the anger that seemed to seep through the line.

"Romano is spending time with Spain." Italy replied coolly, a hint of a deadly edge to his tone, "If he is who you are looking for then you should try calling there."

"No, I do not wish to speak to him…" Germany groaned, silently adding the 'again' to the end of his sentence.

"Then, why were you asking?" Italy demanded and Germany paled from his lack of good responses. The truth seemed pretty farfetched and he wasn't sure if it would sound convincing.

"He asked me a strange question…" Germany started then paused again. "Has he been acting… like himself…?"

"What did he ask you? Tell me what he said." The voice was losing patience quickly, and Germany panicked.

"He asked me to join the two of you for dinner." He waited for a reaction, but it was strangely quiet on the other side. "Hallo?"

"You'll have to excuse me Germany, but I have to go speak with my older brother now." Their connection was swiftly ended and Germany hung up his phone wondering what happened to all the nice formalities that warned a caller they were about to be hung up on. He stretched from behind his desk and decided a break was in order. Perhaps if Austria was in the kitchen he could ask to borrow one of his books to see if he should still be attending dinner tomorrow night.

_AN: Thanks for the lovely reviews (they make my day! :D ) and sorry about how I keep ending chapters... I'm terrible, I know. Hopefully next week's will be better! (I say that like I haven't already written it... and the three following it...)  
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	7. Chapter 7

It briefly crossed the blonde's mind that he should not have made an appearance to the small residence he found himself standing in front of. Most of the day had been spent in the company of Austria and it had taken their combined efforts to come to a conclusion. Austria insisted that it was a proper invitation and that if it were rescinded he would have received some sort of clear notification from either of the Italian brothers prior to when he was due to arrive. Germany had gladly accepted that explanation, sighing relief at having an answer… until Prussia stuck his head in the room and added to conversation with "But what if they thought that you knew that they knew that you knew…" and continuing until he was chased from away by his angry and much larger younger brother.

Still, before he had left Austria had reminded him that general politeness would have meant a call to cancel their plans and since the phone had been oddly silent all day he had left his house feeling nervous and confused at the situation. Well, to be more honest, this was just another instance to add to his growing list of things he didn't understand recently. And he really should be focusing more on what was happening in the war than what his comrades were doing.

With large strides he approached the front door and lifted a hand to knock, but his knuckles never collided with it as it wrenched open and he found himself face to face with hazel eyes directing the worst of evil stares in his direction. "Get inside bastard."

Germany mutely followed the order and stepped past, keeping Romano always within view and watching with curiosity as the brunette glanced behind him and then shut the door quietly. Germany cleared his throat, not sure where to begin on tonight's adventure. "I would like to thank you for your invitation-"

"Shhh! He'll hear you!" Romano cut him off and nervously looking towards the other room. When it was deemed safe he turned his murderous glare back towards his guest. "Do you have any idea what a stupid thing you did?"

Germany thought about it for a moment and drew a blank at to what the other was talking about so he slowly shook his head, his wide blue eyes never daring to look away from Romano's face.

"Oh, you don't know? Really? You idiot! You told _him_!" Romano hissed, moving closer so he could look directly up into Germany's stunned face. "Veneciano wasn't supposed to know! And you went and fucking told him!"

Germany dismally wished he had found a way out of tonight's plans, as it looked like this evening was off to a bad start. He never should have accepted the offer in the first place if this was what was going to happen. "You didn't say…"

"You know what he did after you called him and told him?" Romano continued in a whisper, acting as though the other's interruption had gone unheard, "He showed up to Spain's house and tricked that idiot into letting him. And Spain was pissed about what happened to his place and kicked us both out. Like it was my fault that Veneciano trashed it." The brunette huffed and crossed his arms in irritation as he finished his tale and looked up at Germany expectantly for some sort of explanation to his actions.

Germany ran a hand over his face and continued the motion over his slicked back hair. "Then why did you call me?" He had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

"This is your problem and I want you to fix it." Romano spat at him a bit too loudly and there was noise from the other room.

"Romano? C'è qualcuno?"

The brunette visibly flinched and moved to hide behind the German's large frame. "S-si! Germany's here!" He called and gave the nation a rough shove in the direction of the kitchen. "And make sure you do it fast." He added in a hushed tone, carefully treading his way alongside Germany as they made their way together into the next room.

Italy smirked as Germany appeared in the room, rounding the table that had been elegantly set and slinking slowly forward in a confident manner. "Ciao Germany." The Italian breathed, lacing his words with allure and coming to a halt just in front of him and holding out his arms. "Greet me with a hug?" he asked sweetly, before adding "Or would you prefer a kiss?"

Kissing was out of the question for safety's sake in case whatever Italy had come down with was transferable, but Germany figured a hug would be fine and so carefully enclosed the smaller nation in his embrace. Italy hummed in appreciation and pleasure and sent a very pointed glare to Romano over the blonde's shoulder so that the other wouldn't see. Romano winced and fled the room quickly not looking back as he made himself scarce.

Germany frowned as he released the brunette and cast a glance over the table. "I thought the table would be set for three…" he stated slowly, turning around and searching for the other missing Italian.

"Romano won't be joining us." Italy grinned, snaking his arm around Germany's and leading him towards his seat. "It will just be you and me." Somehow that thought was of little comfort.

Germany stood dumbfounded as Italy pulled out his chair for him and held it out waiting for him to take it. He stared at the gesture, feeling awkward at what it meant, until Italy frowned and let his fuchsia gaze make it very clear that Germany was to take that seat and smiling as the large nation followed his silent instruction. He easily circled the table and found the bottle of wine and began to fill their glasses while Germany watched his every movement with a critical eye in hopes of understanding what was happening. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the French script that adorned the bottle, but said nothing at the observation.

As the Italian moved to severing their appetizers Germany figured now was as good a time to shed a little more light on the situation. "Why would Romano invite me to dinner and then not appear himself?"

Italy chuckled as took his seat and picked up a fork to dig in. "It seems fratellone was trying to set us up together by asking us both to have dinner." His lips curved into a small smirk as went to take the first bite. "It was actually rather cute."

With apprehension and then only because he felt it would be polite, Germany stiffly joined in eating the prepared meal chewing slowly while attempting to determine if there was anything amiss with it. Everything tasted the same as it always had and their routines fell into a somewhat normal appearance where Italy chatted throughout the course while Germany nodded and made the occasional appropriate grunts and voiced thoughts to show he was listening. The biggest difference was their topic of conversation which seemed to focus less on Italy describing the cute cat he had seen that day to ones of military strategy.

"What would you think to a direct approach?" Italy offered during the main dish, fixing his guest with lidded eyes and a small smile.

Germany shifted slightly in his seat. "Direct?"

"Si." Italy casually stood and picked up the wine again to refresh their glasses. "If you want a country," he started, slowly pouring and leaning so he began to invade the German's personal space, "you should just take it, don't you think? And what country," he added with a pause so that he could turn his full attention to Germany, "do you want most?"

The room suddenly felt too hot to the reddening German. They were still talking military strategy, correct? "How would you suggest a more direct approach than what we have already tried?" he asked, attempting to carefully skirt around the previous question.

Italy seemed pleased by the question as he set the glass bottle on the table and, much to the blonde's shock, moved even closer. "How? That's easy." He replied slyly, grasping the blonde by the wrists. "You need to get your hands on the representative, and once you do," he smoothly lifted the large hands and placed them around his own waist, "you can do whatever you wish with them." Germany stared at the new position he had found himself in, internally debating whether or not to rip his arms away and remaining rather stiffly where he had been left while Italy trailed his finger tips towards the other's elbows. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Germany was absolutely sure there was something else going on and whatever it was making him increasingly more uncomfortable. Italy picked up this and smiled down at the flustered blonde. "How about some dessert?"

"Yes. Dessert sounds nice." Germany replied quickly, sensing he could be released from this peculiar state and waited patiently as the brunette picked up their plates and gracefully left him to his own musings. What had occurred was… odd and just thinking of it was not helping the deep blush that had crept up his ears and seeped into the roots of his hair. He tried to focus on his breathing in an attempt to calm his racing heart and in doing so was startled when Italy appeared beside him and placed a small plate of tiramisu in front of him.

"I made this myself." Italy told him while picking up the spoon that rested unused at his place setting to gingerly scooped some and held it out. "Try it."

Germany opened his mouth to the offering and let the Italian guide the spoonful to his lips. A new shade of red appeared on his skin as he murmured his praise of dish and found himself staring at the table rather than at the brunette. Italy accepted this, leaving the German nation's spoon on his plate and taking his own place opposite him before striking up another topic of conversation.

Germany, for his part, was silent for the rest of the dinner.

_AN: I, uh, *cough* have heard you all like this version of 2p Italy...  
_

_C'è qualcuno?: Is someone there? (according to Google translate so for all I know it means something else entirely)  
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	8. Chapter 8

"Buona nottte, Germany!" Italy called cheerfully from the door frame, wiggling his fingers at his retreating guest. "Travel back safely and call if you get lonely!" He laughed as he watched the German trip at the last statement, throw him a wary glance over his shoulder and then hurry away in direction of safety. With a hum he shut the front door of his home and the smile he wore instantly faded with the click of the lock. "Fratellone!"

The house stayed strangely still and Italy's eyes narrowed. Fine, if that's how Romano wanted to play things then he could as well. His brother couldn't stay hidden forever.

Padding quietly on light feet, Italy began to search each room, looking under furniture and inside cupboards. After making sure that the lower half of his house was empty and all of the doors were locked, he began his quiet assent up the stairs to search the bedrooms. Rather than start with the ones closest, Italy continued down the narrow hallway to stop before the door that led to his brother's room. This was the most probable place his brother would hide and as he tried the door he found it to be locked. A small grin crept up his face with the definitive proof to his theory.

He pulled his keys from his pocket and let them jingle against each other as he took his time searching for the right one and putting it into the keyhole on Romano's door. The bolt slid back into place with a satisfying clunk and he let the door open in one long slow motion which only seemed to amplify the protesting of the hinges. The dimly lit bedroom remained still as Italy's fuchsia eyes roamed the area taking note of every possible hiding space.

Stepping inside and closing the door behind him, Italy turned the lock again while keeping his eyes trained on everything. "Romano~" he sang, his smile growing wider and showing a few more teeth, "Where could you possibly be hiding?"

Nothing moved to his call, and so Italy began to silently slink forward to check beneath his brother's bed first only to find it empty. "You've been avoiding me all day!" Italy whined, creeping towards the closed curtains and checking behind them. "That's very mean of you." He scolded and letting his eyes rest on the closet on the other side of the room. Not a sound was made as he traversed the room and stood before the door. Not a very imaginative hiding spot for his older brother as with a wicked grin he flung the door open to meet the shocked and terrified hazel eyes of Romano. "Found you~!"

Romano back peddled in a desperate attempt to escape by scurrying across the floor of his narrow closet but soon found himself pressed against the wall and glared up at his younger brother. "Vaffanculo!" he spat out as he tried to push himself further way.

"What language." Italy tsked as he lowered himself to a crouch so he was about eye level. "But I've suppose you've always been this way. However that look on your face isn't one you've used for me at all. Tell me," Italy pressed forward tilting his head to the side, "Have I frightened you?"

"Of course you have." Romano snarled back, tensing as he tried to search for another exit.

Italy held his smile for a moment more before letting it drop to a serious expression. "Good."

In one swift movement Italy lunged forward and managed to get his fingers wrapped around his brother's neck before the other could react. They struggled for a few minutes, neither one have the clear upper hand in brute strength, until Veneciano had successfully pinned Romano to the floor.

"What did you think you were doing," Italy snarled while tightening his hold on his brother's throat, "going _behind my back_ to Germany? What possible motive could you have had?!"

Romano struggled to pry the fingers off though their grip never loosened. "Was trying to get you and Germany together."

Veneciano rolled his eyes. "I can tell when you are lying." He hissed between his teeth, "What was your real motive?"

Romano gasped as the air was beginning to be cut off and flailed his legs trying to kick the younger Italian off of him. "Thought he… could… help you…"

"Help me?" Italy sneered, his eyes cold as he looked down at his brother. "I don't need any help." He squeezed tighter waiting until the color changed around Romano's lips before releasing him and sitting back. Romano gasped and coughed, letting his head fall back and his eyes roll in a daze from the sudden rush of oxygen and blood to his head and ceasing his fight to escape for the time being. Italy gave him about half a minute to recover then pulled him up by the front of his shirt. "Let's get one thing clear," Italy started, bringing his face dangerously close to the still wheezing Romano's, "You are never to interact or speak with Germany without my permission. He is mine. Do you understand?"

Romano fervently nodded which made the small tears gathering in the corners of his eyes quiver and threaten to spill over. "Good." Italy dropped him roughly and stood up to leave. "You can clean up the kitchen since dinner was your idea. I'm going to bed."

Romano waited until the door to his room closed before he let out the choked sob that mixed with the curse. "Cazzo…"

_AN: So many apologies for what I've done to the Italians! Forgive me!_


	9. Chapter 9

Romano sniffed as he put away the last of the clean dishes and dragged a fist over an eye. How many people did he currently hate? There was Venciano for being so incredibly cruel and without good cause. Germany was the one who started this whole mess in the first place; he was still completely convinced of it. And then there was Spain who had kicked him out and left him alone with the monster asleep upstairs. Whatever that thing was, it was not his brother anymore.

With a sigh, he decided he wasn't tired enough to sleep yet but he didn't want to hang around in the house. Maybe a long walk would be good, with some fresh air and some distance between himself and the problem so he could think things over. His throat still felt painful from where it had been squeezed earlier and he stopped in front of the mirror in the hallway to find small circular bruises already beginning to form. That wouldn't be a good thing to have on display for others to see and he wrenched open a cupboard searching through it for something to cover it up.

Several coats later, and Romano still hadn't found anything with a collar high enough to effectively hide everything; until his eyes settled on a silky looking scarf hanging delicately in the corner. That would work well enough and he carefully draped it around his neck to hide the evidence of the evening's events and wondered when it was that they had decided to purchase such a frivolous item. Probably Veneciano's doing he concluded, before the thought reminded him again of everything and he started furiously swiping at his eyes . The bright red that shown around the hazel looked worse, and Romano mentally cursed that he had let it get that far. He couldn't let anyone see him in such a pitiful state and went back to the cupboard to search for something else. He found a few pairs of sunglasses, but it was too dark outside to use such things but managed to pull out a rose tinted pair. Not really sunglasses that would block out the light, but should still effectively hide that he had been crying to the general public. It would be good enough for now.

Grabbing the house key and stuffing his hands inside his pockets, Romano left and began to aimlessly walk to nowhere in particular. There weren't too many places that he really felt he could go, especially since Spain wouldn't be too pleased since the fiasco yesterday that took place in his home and involved a few broken pieces of furniture. Plus there was the added problem that his former caretaker would demand to know what happened to his neck and wouldn't let something like that go until he got an answer. He nervously tugged the scarf a little higher up even though there wasn't a soul around to see him at this hour.

Several random turns down a few streets and Romano found himself standing in front a large park. With a shrug he decided it wasn't any better or worse to walk in there than out on the streets and found the weakly lit path that wound its way through the middle. Further in while still deep within his thoughts, he found he utterly disliked one of the loose stones that stood out of place on the middle of the path and gave it a harsh kick, watching it skip further away before coming to a stop. Romano frowned at that stone and when he was close enough to it again kicked it further along; listening to it clatter against the hard surface he was walking.

"Stupid brother," he muttered into the scarf as he drew closer to the stone and pulled his foot back. "Everyone likes him better than me, including Grandpa Rome." He drew to a stop and glared down at the innocent rock that rested quietly beneath his feet. "It's not fair and I hate it!" The silence that followed his statement made him angrier and he kicked the rock off the path when it didn't reply. "Stupid stone," he muttered as he ventured further into the park.

His thoughts continued to chase him around until he felt the sudden breaking of everything he had been trying to contain and the cool droplets that started to run down his face. "Why did this have to happen?" he wailed to the empty sky as he came to a stop in the middle of an empty path. "I wish it hadn't at all!"

There was a sudden popping noise behind him and the brunette jumped, hastily trying to pretend he hadn't been crying by himself in the middle of nowhere. He craned his neck around to spot where a dazed looking angel staggered a bit to the side and glanced around trying to locate where he was. Romano drew in a sharp breath. Of all the nights, this was possibly the worst night for England to suddenly show up. Adrenaline coursed through him and he took off down the path as fast as his legs could carry him.

Britannia Angel shook his head attempting to focus on what was happening and when his vision cleared he only saw the quickly retreating back of Romano heading in the opposite direction. He blinked his bright green eyes several times and grimaced. Why were Italians so difficult?

His heart was racing inside his chest as Romano fled down the path. He had gotten a head start, so this meant that he should be fine he reasoned, though as he turned a corner, he came face to face with angel himself, who bared the path with his outstretched wings. "Stop running." The angel commanded sternly as Romano skidded to a stop and tripped as he tried to back away landing on the ground in a heap.

"What do you want?" Romano growled while trying to pull himself back together. He desperately hoped that this wouldn't be a repeat of the earlier incident and he couldn't stop the trembling that wracked his entire body.

"To help you by granting a wish." The angel answered quickly sighing and letting his wings fold in a little.

"What sort of wish?" The brunette asked, cautiously taking in everything about the nation standing before him.

"Anything that you want." He was instructed and Romano quieted as he thought through his available options.

"Is this something that you do often?" Romano asked a minute later, raising one dark eyebrow and peering at the angel through his tinted specs.

Britannia Angel shifted a little at the question. "Well… yes."

Romano couldn't help but smirked. "Looking like that?"

"You are hardly one to judge fashion, you git!" The angel cursed, large eyebrows scrunching together and pointing in the general direction of Romano's new accessories, causing the shorter of the two to scowl in return. "Look at what you are wearing right now! Just make your bloody wish so I can leave!"

"Bastard, you don't have to yell!" Romano shouted back and then pondered his choices while trying to ignore the impatient foot tapping of his visitor. "I want to keep up with Veneciano." he finally decided, glaring harshly up at the angel. "Whatever made him change, I want the same."

"Fine by me." The angel retorted, wasting no time in materializing his wand and performing the spell. But who could blame him? He was standing around outside in a small tunic in the middle of the night. A warm bed sound much nicer at the time.

_AN: Have a lovely week everyone! :D (Sorry for my rushed editing job. I was a bit lazy this week.)  
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	10. Chapter 10

Germany was completely determined to use his time today effectively and make a sizeable dent in his growing pile of paperwork. The past few days had made it difficult to focus on it, but this morning he had awoken knowing he needed to finish. Armed with several cups of coffee and announcing to the rest of the occupants of his house that he would not tolerate interruptions he had shut the door and begun to tediously sort through everything. He was now several hours in and feeling like he was finally making some headway.

That was until his door was thrown open and a terrified Italian ran in.

Germany looked up in annoyance as the brunette quickly shut the door and leaned against it breathing heavily, though that emotion quickly left and was replaced by a mixture of concern and relief. An afraid Italian was someone he was used to dealing with and it crept into his mind that perhaps now the madness was over.

Italy's fuchsia eyes darted around the room and settled on Germany. "You have to hide me."

Germany blinked several times. "What? What are hiding from this time?"

"The scariest thing to exist in this world." Italy told him, and began to furiously pull open cabinets trying to find enough space to hide inside one of them.

Germany sighed as he watched the smaller nation continue to run around the room. "That doesn't explain anything." He didn't get an explanation for Italy's behavior as there came a knock on his office door. The Italian squeaked and in blind terror leapt behind Germany's desk huddling on the floor by his feet. The blonde raised an eyebrow at this and grimaced before answering the knock, completely unprepared for what came through the door.

The blonde that sidled in he didn't recognize until the first words were spoken: "Caio Germany! Have you seen Veneciano today?" The pen he had been holding slipped from his fingers as Germany's mouth hung open at the sight before him. Romano smiled, a genuine smile, not a sneer or smirk, a genuine happy and pleased with the world grin that Germany had been utterly convinced the other's face had no idea how to form. Germany was a complete loss for words and his lack of response had Romano waving a hand in front of him. "Umm? Germany?"

"You are blonde." Was all that the German managed to say.

Romano giggled, apparently today was a day of firsts. "Yes, I am! What do you think?" He gave a quick spin to show all sides of his new look: light bleach blonde hair, a clean-cut designer suit, and a delicate scarf wrapped lovingly around his neck. "Do you like it? I think this color suits me pretty well, don't you agree?"

Germany really didn't know what to think, except to make a mental note to have someone check into the water supply back at Italy's place. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Why, yes. I'm looking for Veneciano." Romano explained looking around room to see if he could spot his brother hiding somewhere. Beside him, Germany sensed that Italy wasn't even breathing in hopes he wouldn't be caught. "He's being so silly today and ran off before we could spend some quality time together. I just wanted to fix his hair was all and he acted like I was killing him." Romano gave a tired, and overly dramatic sigh. "I just cannot understand him sometimes."

"He's not here." Germany lied, not really understanding what was happening.

Romano looked him over and shrugged. "Well, he'll turn up eventually. He's obsessed with you after all. I find it rather cute, and so long as you don't hurt him I don't mind the two of you were a little more than friends."

Germany grimaced at that but didn't comment. "As you can see I am busy with work," he gave a nod to his desk to indicate the scattered papers, "so if you could show yourself out…"

"Sure, sorry for interrupting." Romano grinned, heading back out the door. "I may go and catch up with Prussia; haven't chatted with him in ages. So if you do see my silly little brother, send him my way. Ciao!"

When the door closed with a click Italy slowly appeared from behind the desk with narrowed eyes. "There is something very wrong with him today."

Germany just gaped as the Italian stood up from his hiding place and rubbed his chin in thought. "It's as though his entire personality has just switched overnight. You think he might be ill?" He didn't really wait for an answer pacing slightly as he thought aloud. "Maybe this is what happens when one of our kind reaches the end of their lives." He abruptly stopped pacing and grinned slightly. "We should put him out of his misery."

"Italy, you are interrupting my work." Germany grumbled when he realized that nothing had changed with the initial problem and now there would be another to add to it. "I am very busy today."

The shorter nation frowned. "You are always busy with work. You never have any time for me."

Germany groaned as he tried to focus on what was written on the pages before him. "I will play with you later, but I cannot until I am finished with these first."

The resulting silence was pleasing but short lived as a few quick footsteps later and Italy was close enough to shove everything off his desk and onto the floor. Germany stared in horror at the messy pile of paper covering his carpet and turned, absolutely furious, towards a smirking Italy. "What have you done?!"

"I guess you have some time right now." The brunette shrugged and easily hopped onto the desk. Germany dug his fingers into the arm rests of his chair as he watched the nation in front him settle comfortably and smile. "So, Germany, what do you want to do?"

"Why are you doing this?" Germany muttered lowly while fixing the sternest glare he could muster on the brunette.

"Hmm?" Italy tilted his head to the side in confusion. "I already said I wanted to spend time with you."

"No, why are you acting like this? Why are you different?" He rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to understand. All of this was just giving him a headache, or perhaps just intensifying the one he already had.

"Awe, poor Germany." Italy cooed giving a quick pat to the top of the other's head. "You cannot figure it out, can you?" He rested his chin in his hand and smirked. "Ever thought I like being like this?"

Germany didn't even want to consider such an option, but his wide-eyed expression made the brunette laugh. "Say, why don't we do something? The Axis hasn't made any more progress in battles recently. Why don't we decide who we should attack next? England?"

"You are willing to go up against England?" Germany cautioned, looking suspiciously over the small nation.

Italy gave a lazy shrug. "Sure, why not?"

"And you are not afraid of him?" Germany tried again.

"Why should I be?" Italy smiled in a way that made the blonde uneasy. "I've come to realize that he's not as tough as he looks. It's all a front with only the worst cooking imaginable to back him up."

"I will… consider it…" Germany said slowly trying to look anywhere else but at the nation on his desk.

"Oi, West! I know you said you didn't want me to interrupt you while you were working, but-" Prussia paused as he held the door open and surveyed the scene that lay before him, more specifically that Germany's paperwork was on the floor and Italy was lounging comfortably on the desk. "Oh, you were that type of working."

"What do you want?" Germany snarled as he leaned around the nation blocking his view of the door, attempting to ignore both the blush that was rising to his face and the pleased grin that Italy wore.

Prussia waited a second more before launching into his explanation for his visit. "Well, you see Romano's weird today and normally I could handle it, but he may have called Austria various forms of old-fashioned and you know what a pain in the asrch he can be normally, but now that's he's offended…"

"I get it." Germany groaned and held up a hand to pause his brother. He was already wishing the day would end. "Where are they now?"

"Austria is fuming in the kitchen and Romano's probably followed him to give him fashion advice." Prussia explained and leaned against the door way. "We need a way to get him to leave."

"I have a way." Italy offered, brandishing his knife with a sinister grin. Germany held a moment of wonder where he considered where it was previously hidden.

"Go call Spain." Germany instructed, ignoring Italy's suggestion completely. "You should still have his number, right?"

Prussia nodded, disappearing to call the Spaniard and Germany stood up snatching Italy's arm in the process. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Italy purred, using the opportunity to get closer to Germany and rest his head against his arm.

Germany didn't answer him, instead just leading him down the hall and thrusting him through the doorway of another room. "I have found him."

"Finally!" Romano squealed leaving the fuming Austrian and dashing across the room to grab his brother who had realized all too late what was happening.

"You will pay for this." Italy hissed back as he was forcibly dragged away and pushed into one of the chairs. Austria sniffed irritably and left them alone, clenching his coffee a bit harder than normal.

It still took several hours of listening to Romano's incessant chatting and watching as Italy scowled darkly at him before the doorbell rang and Germany left to go answer it and found a tired looking Spaniard on the other side of it. "Hola, Germany." Spain greeted him. "Prussia called, but I don't really understand. Something happened with Romano?"

"Better just come see for yourself." Germany muttered holding the door open for the other nation and indicating that he follow him back down the hall towards the kitchen. They entered to find that Romano still had Italy trapped on a chair and was playing with his hair while the younger brother glared daggers at the wall.

Romano looked up when Spain entered and smiled broadly. "Spain! You've come to visit?"

"Romano?" Spain said slowly, glancing at Germany hoping for some kind of explanation. "What are you doing?"

"Fixing Veneciano's hair. I think he's due for a change, don't you think so?" Romano chirped happily despite the hissing sound that came from Italy.

"I… I don't think Italy wants you to change his hair…" Spain stated, looking a bit worried towards the younger Italian.

"Hmm?" Romano looked between the two with confusion. "Why wouldn't he want me to?"

"Because I like my hair as it is!" Italy snapped, trying to escape out of his brother's clutches and batting his hands away.

"Romano, why don't you spend time with Spain instead?" Germany suggested, hoping to get at least one of his problems out of the house. Spain nodded in confused agreement from beside him.

The blonde Italian thought about it for a moment and then grinned. "Sure. I love spending time with you Spain."

"You do?" Spain looked genuinely shocked.

"Of course!" Romano laughed, abandoning his brother to join the other. "I always have."

"Re-Really?" Spain stammered, looking down at the large smile on younger's face. His own smile slowly formed and grabbed Romano up in a crushing hug that the smaller nation easily returned. "Oh, Romano, you are so cute! Let's go!" Spain cried tugging the blonde with him towards the door. "This calls for a fiesta! With tomatoes!"

"As long as it doesn't make a mess." They could hear Romano say from the hallway before there was silence once again. Germany hesitated before slowly turning to find Italy glaring at him with his arms crossed from the chair he had been held in all afternoon and a lesser man would have flinched at the look he received.

"You are lucky I like you, Germany," Italy said quietly, "so I won't kill you, but I'm also not going to forgive you for this." He rose quietly to his feet and brushed past the blonde leaving through the same door his brother had minutes earlier. Germany rubbed a hand through his hair as he heard the door slam behind him and left to gather his paperwork from the floor and consider what options had for alternative places to sleep tonight.

_AN: I love 2p Romano! :D He giggles, has the best fashion sense and has the word 'sorry' as a useable part of his vocabulary (granted, this may be more my version). I've been so excited to post this chapter.  
_

_And we've hit double digits in chapters! Whoo! Still pretty far from the end though ;) and all of your amazing reviews are so encouraging!_


	11. Chapter 11

Quiet worked well in his favor as Italy stealthily made his way across the grass towards Germany's house. When he had left the other day he had been angry (more like furious) that Germany had dared to pull the stunt that he did; however, now he was going to remind his blonde that he was never to be crossed unless you are able to bear with the consequences.

Only the dogs heard him approach, and as he neared where they slept they whimpered at his presence. He barely threw them a glance as he kept going past them. Normally they would have run up and licked his hand but ever since he had woken up feeling different they seemed afraid to come close. Seemed just as well, he shrugged as he circled around the back, and it didn't bother him any whether they liked the new him or not.

It didn't take long to spot his usual entrance into Germany's home. Back in the beginning when they first met Italy would often visit to find Germany changing locks in order to keep his unwanted visitor at bay, and each time the small brunette would simply giggle and watch in amusement at his futile efforts. It wasn't through the doors the he was able to slip in and out of the house, but through the window he was standing before now. The frame that held the pane of glass was only held in by a few loose nails and by pulling one of them out it allowed the entire thing to swing open and give him just enough space to squeeze through into the blonde's basement. And little did Germany know, he was actually very good at keeping certain secrets to himself.

Once both feet were planted firmly inside, Italy carefully reclosed the small window to hide all evidence of his entrance and leave the dumbfounded blonde guessing how he managed it. Just as he had hoped, the entire building was silent at this time of night and he began his trek past the door that led to Prussia's room and up the small flight of stairs that joined the rest of the house. It was a familiar path and he knew it well enough to avoid all the loose floor boards as he casually headed towards the upstairs bedrooms with one singular mission in mind.

The bedroom door opened easily enough and what little light there was provided just enough for the brunette to see his intended target. There was a large blanketed lump on the bed and Italy began to creep across the floor towards it indicative of a large cat right down to the bright fuchsia eyes that practically gleamed in the darkness as they closed in on their prey. Just as he had any night before, he eased his way onto the bed, careful not to let the added weight to the mattress disturb the other occupant and sidled up as close as he could to the huddled form. A wicked grin formed on his lips as he pulled the small knife he'd concealed and leaned in close. "Svegliati Germany~" Italy whispered, trying to stifle the giggle that attempted to escape, "I have a surprise for you~!"

The figure rolled over at the sound of his voice and pulled the blanket down from off his head. Italy's face fell as bleary red eyes took in the Italian perched next to him and pale arms quickly encircled the other's waist to draw him closer. "Look at that," the albino mumbled while still half-asleep, "there are perks to sleeping in West's bed…"

"Prussia!?" Italy hissed as the ex-nation settled down to sleep once again while unconsciously nuzzling into the brunette's hair. "What are you doing here? And where's Germany?!"

Prussia just sighed as he cuddled the smaller nation and letting his eyes slip closed. "West wanted to switch…"

Italy growled from where he had been caught in the other's grip, his arms pinned down to his sides and pulled snug against the albino's chest. "Prussia, let me go!"

There was a small giggle from above him and if possible he was being held tighter. "No…"

"Prussia," Italy started again, stilling as he fumed and punctuating every word so that it dripped with venom. "Let. Me. Go." Silence followed his statement save for the slowed breathing that began again.

Threat ignored and temper rising, Italy settled for thrashing in his captors arms with growls and hisses and his struggling effectively woke Prussia from his slumbering state. Confused and sleep deprived, he sat up while trying to hold onto the struggling brunette. "Italy? What the…? Hey! Calm down!" Luckily for him, although he hadn't realized it at the time, it was only nails that dug into his arms as the small knife had been lost among the blankets and the smaller nation twisted and snarled and fought.

And as suddenly as it began, Italy's struggles suddenly ceased and they froze in the awkward positions they had found themselves in. Prussia was breathing heavily as he tried to see what the other was doing, but the brunette had managed to turn around in his arms and was now facing away from him. "Italy, what was that?" he demanded, raising an eyebrow even if the other couldn't see it, "What are you doing here?"

There was silence that seemed to stretch on far longer than the albino was able to deal with and his patience was quickly waning as he awaited an answer until there was a small sniffle that softened his harsher stare. "Prussia," he heard the choked whisper accompanied with another sniff as the brunette turned his face farther away from view, "You're hurting me…"

"Oh, Scheiße, Italy. I'm sorry!" Prussia quickly apologize and loosed his hold on the other. "I didn't mean to-"An elbow collided with the center of his face and the albino was sent off the bed, taking half of the bedding and the bedside lamp with him to the floor.

Germany's eyes sprung open at the sound of the crash and he sat bolt upright in Prussia's bed at the sound of his brother's cussing. Instincts kicking in more than rational thought, he leapt up and ran up the stairs meeting an Italian radiating death as he stormed down the hallway being chased by the Prussian with a hand clamped over his profoundly bleeding nose and sputtering every curse in the book.

As soon as Italy's eyes locked onto the terrified blonde's he marched up to him, slapped him across the face and continued out the front door without another word. Germany watched him go before facing his furious brother. "Prussia, I-"

"No, don't speak you Sitzpinkler! When you offered to switch for a few nights, I knew something was up but I let it go. Had I known you had angered that Alp I wouldn't have taken it in the first place!" He waved about his free hand while he ranted, blood still spilling out from beneath his pinched nose and Germany frowned as droplets landed on the floor. "Now look what's happened to my awesome face!"

The blonde rolled his eyes as he pointed a finger to his own still prominent wound. The cut had scabbed over, but it was showing signs that it was going to leave a scar on his skin. "It could have been worse. At least yours is temporary."

"Temporary? He nearly broke my nose!" The albino groaned dramatically as he whined, "It's going to leave a terrible bruise and what will I tell anyone who asks how I got it?"

"Just say you angered Hungary again if it bothers you that much."

Prussia visibly brightened at the suggestion. "That could work."

Further along down the hallway, another door was wrenched open and a ragged looking brunette stepped out, his hair sticking out of place, glasses askew, and robe pulled tightly against him. "Will the both of you be quiet." He glared between the two of them at being awoken in the middle of the night. "_Some_ of us are trying to sleep!"

"Fresse!" Prussia growled in return, resuming his fight with his brother. "I thought you changed the locks yesterday!"

"I did!" the blonde tried to argue back and ignoring an appalled and fuming Austria as he walked back into his room and shut the door. "He just bypasses them!"

"Well you better think of something here soon." He pulled his hand away as the flow slowed down and grimaced at the sight of the blood coating his hand. "He'll just as soon turn on his allies as his enemies. Did you even find out what happened with France?"

The German shifted a little, remembering the Italian's delight at recalling his mission. "The spy hasn't seen anything…"

"Yeah? Probably because he's dead and that little terror that was just here was the one who did it." Germany opened his mouth to argue back but Prussia cut him off. "It's been a week! I've known France for years; he doesn't just stop making public appearances just because he's been beaten down by someone. Occasional bouts of depression when he's sure his hair's a mess, but even those only last an afternoon!" A few more mumbled curses and Prussia turned away and stomped down the hallway. "Just because we're not on the same side this time doesn't mean I don't care what happens to him!"

"Where do you think you're going?" he called after his brother's retreating back.

"To my own bed where I won't have my throat slit in the middle of the night!" Prussia shouted back over his shoulder, quickly disappearing out of sight. Germany groaned and ran a hand through his mussed up hair. He was far to riled up to be able to back to sleep, and someone needed to clean up the blood before it stained.

As the shouting, stomping about, and door slamming came to close and house was once again quiet, Austria tsked moodily. "Finally." He muttered as he buried his head into his pillow.

_AN: Hmm... I wonder what happened to France..._

_German curses? Yeah, don't repeat those. At least one of them will get you slapped for ever speaking it aloud. Oh, but an Alp is a mythical creature of German folklore. They tend to sneak into people's homes in the middle of the night, perch on top of your chest and crush you or give you nightmares (hence the German word for nightmare is 'Alptraum' or 'elf dream'). Also, Alps are just the male version, Mares are the more common female versions (and part of where the word nightmare comes from). I always find that interesting/love mythical creatures._


	12. Chapter 12

"That damn frog missed today's meeting and now we're delivering the notes to him." England swore again and America watched him quizzically while he sipped on his soda as they walked the path that lead to the elegant front door. America didn't reply, leaving the furious Brit to his ranting which had started shortly after the rant about how France was going to arrive late to their scheduled Allies meeting. England had to admit that it was unusual for the French nation to miss meetings, and maybe there was a small piece of him that was worried he might lose his favorite form of stress relief. The week had been enjoyably quiet: no unexpected visits, calls, flirtatious notes, or strip teases. Other than having been called out in the middle of the night to a park in the middle of nowhere to chase down Italians, he really couldn't complain.

"Really, why must he be so irresponsible? And he better be at home!" the nation continued to grumble as they stopped in front of the door. He sighed as he shifted the packet of paper he had brought along to his other arm and glanced up at the loudly slurping American. "Let's get this over with."

He raised a fist and brought it heavily down on the door that easily swung open from the first strike. The two nations looked to each other and then peered into the darkened home. "France…?" England called out, following America's lead and stepping over the threshold behind him.

"Quoi?" They heard the gruff reply and followed it into the living room and were immediately taken aback by the appearance of it and the nation stretched out on the couch. The curtains were drawn making the entire room dark and belongings had been left haphazardly lying around. France himself was lying on his back holding a smoldering cigarette between his teeth and judging by the ashtray that rested on the table beside him and the overpowering scent of smoke that filled the room it was far from his first. His physical appearance was in such a state that England had never seen before: his clothes were dull and wrinkled, and his hair was hanging in a stringy mess around his chin that sported more scraggly growth than usual.

He took another long slow drag of his cigarette and exhaled it as he fixed the pair with a bored pink stare. "Why are the both of you here?"

"You missed today's meeting." England informed him, throwing the packet down in front of him. "We brought you the notes."

His gaze shifted between the folder and his guests before returning to the ceiling. "You didn't have to." France replied in a monotone.

"No, but we did. A little gratitude would be nice." England snapped as America returned to slurping on his coke.

"Why bother?" France flicked some of the ash into the pile beside him. He studied England for minute, letting his eyes roam up and down the other's frame in a way that made him rather uncomfortable. "I have this notion that you would look appealing in a small revealing tunic. You should find one and wear it."

"What?" England spat out and America stopped drinking to look uncomfortable with the direction that the conversation was heading in. "Why would I do something like that?"

France shrugged and turned back to his cigarette. "Something to branlage to. Though I'm sure any sort of revealing wear would suffice to complete the act itself. And if we were to capture the image to use later it help to assure I would not need to be in the company of others for a long time…"

England choked on his retort and that left space for America to fill in with his comment. "France… that's so…." His face wrinkled at the thought, "gross…"

The tall blonde was spared from further discussions on the topic with England slapping both of his hands over his ears and muffling any conversation. He blinked a few times, and then returned to his soda, catching the straw with his tongue, and watched as the two nations argued in a semi-bored fashion.

"What do you think you are doing? Saying something like that in front of him!" England hissed leaning around America's shoulder to address the other nation.

"Ugh, don't start this again." France groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "If you treat America like a child he's never going to learn to grow up and act like an adult."

"He's not that much of an adult yet!" England argued."He's still too young! Especially to hear revolting comments made from an old withered frog."

France scoffed. "I bet you that's not a new thing for him. He's probably done it himself before."

"What? Don't say that!" England bit out, paling slightly at the very notion.

"I bet you he has." France turned a lopsided grin towards his guests. "And you know what else? I bet he's had sex with other people."

England shook his head rapidly back and forth as if trying to shake the idea from his mind. "No, that can't be true."

The older nation laughed. "It probably is. Probably with hundreds of partners. I'm sure there are plenty of people willing to overlook his disgusting eating habits, brainlessness, and that obnoxious laugh that feels like a drill is being taken to my skull. But I suppose if animals can figure out how to rut, so can he." His eyes returned to their previous activity of watching the ceiling. "It is just a physical act, like eating or breathing. We do it because our bodies demand that we do." The embers glowed brightly as he sucked in and then released it slowly in a stream of smoke. "You are making far too big a deal out of this."

"And you are not making enough!" England growled in return after readjusting his hold on the younger nation's head. "Honestly France, I've let you get away with saying a lot of things in the past, but this is ridiculous! You need to watch your tongue before I remove it for you!"

"And when you were his age?" France raised a thin eyebrow, "What were you doing?"

"That's not a reliable comparison! When I was his age, I still looked like a child too." England argued back.

"Hey are you two perverted old dudes done talking about sex?" America spoke up, lowering his now empty soda, "'Cause I'd really like to go home."

England quickly lowered his hands, directing a glare at France and blushing slightly. "Uh, yes of course. Why don't you wait for me outside?"

The American shrugged as he lumbered passed and then out the door. "Whatever, but you still owe me dinner for helping."

The front door opened and closed before England turned back around with a hiss. "Where were you this morning?"

"Right here, where I've been every morning for the past couple days," France remarked making an easy gesture to his surroundings, "though I don't see why that should concern you any."

"It _concerns me_ when we you don't show up and cause us all to run late! At least call ahead so that we are not left waiting for you!"

France blinked slowly and turned his head to regard the furious blonde. After a minute of careful study he rolled so his back was to the room and muttered, "Then consider this your notice that I will not be attending any more meetings."

England frowned. "I'm not accepting that as an answer, git."

France sighed as he threw what was left of his cigarette into the ash tray and began to scrounge for another among the various containers he had stacked around the couch for another. "It doesn't matter if you do or not, but it is the truth of what will be happening."

England's hands balled into fists at his sides and he strode forward. "Like hell it won't. And when was the last time you bathed?" Lips turned upwards into a wide grin as his fingers intertwined into France's unkempt hair and pulled. "Looks like you could use one."

_AN: Hallo from Austria! (still managed to post even while on holiday) Considering how much I love France, this actually hurt to write. If anyone needs me, I'll be in mourning... Over here... Eating Mozarttorte...  
_


	13. Chapter 13

"According to him, the visit was kept brief and America was the first one to leave. Shortly thereafter there was a large commotion and England was seen forcibly dragging France outside by his hair where several buckets of water were later overturned on him. America returned sometime during the midst of everything with what looked like five burgers and a milkshake and was spectator to everything that followed." The voice on the other end hesitated from reading what he had scribbled down. "Do you wish for me to continue, sir?"

During the whole of the story telling, Germany could feel his face contorting into one of mild shock and weariness. It shouldn't have surprised him to hear of the allies' shenanigans that were happening just outside his borders, and yet he still couldn't understand what he had just heard. "No, that is enough. So long as France has been seen alive?"

The handler on the phone was quick to respond. "Very much so, sir."

Germany nodded in relief at the confirmation. "Then save the rest for the written report. I appreciate the call to let me know first."

"Of course," the spy's handler responded promptly, "but we were wondering what your orders were, sir. Do you wish for continual monitoring of France?"

"Nein, you may tell him that he should return to his previous assignment. That is all." The man acknowledged the command and thanked him as Germany rested the phone back on its holder and leaned over his desk to place his head into his hands. At least this was one of his questions answered.

A small cough and he looked up to see Japan's dark eyes regarding him carefully. "Am I to assume that was from the man you had posted near France's home?"

A quick nod and the blonde leaned back in seat. "It was and bearing good news. Italy did not kill France on his mission last week."

Japan nodded slowly as he listened. "That should improve relations between you and your brother," he slightly raised an eyebrow at the blonde leader, "should it not?"

"I think he is still angry about being attacked when Italy found him in my bed." He growled quietly and Japan offered a small sympathetic smile.

"It is a start and Prussia needs some time to relax. I am sure things will be right again soon."

"If you say so…" Germany replied with some uncertainty. Prussia had been avoiding him for the past day and moodily sticking to his room whenever he could. They had passed each other once or twice around the house, but he wasn't sure what to say to his elder brother especially now that he was sporting a colorful bruise in the middle of his face. Not to mention when Austria still roused them at the usual time the morning following the incident despite the fact that none of them had gained much sleep the night before. Tensions were high in the German household.

Japan lifted a hand and offered a warm comforting smile. "I think what needs to occur is a some sort of activity that will require everyone to work together. It may help bring back unity to the Axis."

Germany thought over the offered advice while tracing lines on a document in front of him with a spare pen. " We would become more efficient..." he stated reluctantly.

Japan nodded encouragingly while Germany continued to doodle. "There are many benefits to group activities."

Another minute of thought and Germany tossed the pen away with a sigh. "Prussia will never agree to such a thing and Italy has refused to speak with me lately."

"That is a problem," Japan considered,"but with Italy it may be best if you were to go and ask for forgiveness for what it was that has caused this problem between you."

Germany stared at the shorter nation while he processed the statement. Japan's dark knowing eyes kept watch with a small smile to compliment them. Germany studied the nation and raised an eyebrow. "Is there something you are not telling me?" He tapped a finger on the desk as he thought. "Has Italy spoken to you?"

Japan shook his head though he continued to hold the small smile on his face. "I have not heard from him."

A few more taps on the desk while Germany watched suspiciously. "How do I get him to hear me out?"

"Start by offering a gift." Japan instructed and continued before the blonde could cut in with his question. "You know him well; you can find something he would enjoy."

"You mean I used to know him..." the nation mumbled, averting his eyes to study the corner of his desk.

"You still do. Give it some thought and then go to him." Japan encouraged.

There was definitely something Japan knew that he wasn't saying, but in the end Germany could only agree so that they could continue from where they had been before the phone had rung. He sat up in his chair and shuffled a few of the loose documents around his desk. "Now about the status of resources..."

_AN: Cries for forgiveness for a short filler chapter, but I needed some fluffy Japan while writing my RusAme fic..._


	14. Chapter 14

Italy was having a day entirely to himself. Technically speaking, it was another day to himself as the days prior had also been similar but this was hardly phasing him any. Romano was elsewhere in the house, contentedly humming and cleaning and organizing and this had warranted a need for the younger of the brothers to shut the door to his bedroom and bury himself beneath the pillows of his bed. So far, this plan was succeeding in allowing him to stew in both his misery and anger.

With a huff he pushed himself further beneath the bedding and grumbled as it didn't help stop the sound of Romano who had switched from humming to singing in a loud and slightly off-key manner. This moping about wasn't suiting his new and improved self-image but he didn't particularly care as he tried to sort through his inner thoughts and feelings. He loved Germany, he was sure of it, but at the same time he was down-right angry with that large, handsome, overly muscular nation with amazing eyes and try as he could, he wasn't able to get passed it. Not only did the German manage to trick him not once, but twice in the space of a week. It was morbidly embarrassing and something his weaker past self would have been prone to.

So entranced into his thoughts, Italy failed to notice Romano had stopped crooning and had begun knocking at his bedroom door in a manner that seemed to be following some unknown tune's rhythm. At first he tried to ignore it, but the longer it went on the louder and more annoying it became to the brunette gritting his teeth against the intrusion, until he finally couldn't take it anymore and shot upright to growl a "What do you want?!" at the door.

Romano stuck his light blonde head through the gap he created with the door and grin widely. "Hey fratellino! How are you today?"

"Great until you showed up." Italy muttered angrily, folding his arms and focusing on the blanket on his bed.

Romano pouted a little at the statement but said nothing more at it. "Want something to cheer you up?"

"No."

"That's great because I have just the thing." Without any further warning and not listening to any objections, Romano flung the door open wider and shoved a clearly nervous and awkward looking Germany through it. Italy immediately sat up straighter and Romano took happy note of it. "If you two kids need anything, snacks or anything more~," he threw his younger brother a wink and received a forearm jerk in response, "you let me know!"

The door was rather forcefully shut and Germany began to sweat now that he was trapped in small in closed space with his ally. Italy raised an eyebrow and fixed the blonde with a stern look. "Have you come to apologize?"

"…Yes…?"

Well that significantly brightened his mood, and he switched to a charming and lustful smile. "Care to sit?" he asked sweetly and rubbed a circle on the bed beside him. Germany hesitated before slowly making his approach and warily awaiting for the sweet smile to disappear and Italy to pounce on him and add another scar as a memento. He remained tense as he eased himself down beside the smaller nation and froze unsure where to go next.

Italy regarded how nervous the other was and tilted his head to innocently look up at the blonde. "Are you going to tell me how sorry you are for being so mean and leaving me at the mercy at our elder brothers?"

Germany's voice hitched as he was caught in Italy's fuchsia gaze and he barely managed to stammer out the speech he had practiced all morning. "I-Italy, about the p-past few days… I… I would like to settle things between us. Fo-for the sake of… for the sake of our alliance and our p-people, can we put it behind us…?" And to finish off his spiel, Germany put on his best smile in what he hoped was a sign of good faith.

Italy watched in bemusement at the forced, slightly twitching, and partly angry-looking smile on the nation's face held there hoping for some sort of sign that it could be released from its uncomfortable position. It really was fascinating how the other could have so many difficulties with something so simple as a friendly grin. Leaving him hanging for a while longer in sheer amusement, Italy finally formed his own smirk at the blonde's efforts. "I will accept that for now."

Germany's face wavered between relief and panic for a moment much to Italy's delight before he began to rummage through the pockets of his coat. "I also brought you something…" Curiosity piqued, the brunette leaned forward to eagerly see what it was as Germany turned back around and held an object out on the flat of his palm. Italy's eyes widened slightly in shock as he registered the item offered to him. "You, uh, left this behind the other night."

Without giving any sort of clue as to what was happening inside his head, Italy silently accepted his knife, plucking it out of Germany's hand, only the barest of contact occurring as his fingertips grazed the other's skin and ignored his guest's deep-set blush while he ran a thumb over the blade's handle while examining it. It would spoil the moment to remind himself that nation had probably sought help from his housemates on what to bring so he decided to put that thought aside and focused on grinning while sidling closer. "That was wonderfully thought full of you, Germany~" he purred while pressing ever closer to the suddenly tensed blonde.

"I… uh…" Germany stammered as the Italian invaded his much needed personal space. He thought he had kept it together fairly well until the smaller nation easily climbed into his lap and he was faced with the uncertainty of what was now going to happen. On the one hand, Italy seemed pleased at the receipt of his gift (even if said 'gift' was originally his to begin with), but now he had gone and made the situation more awkward than it needed to be.

And what was worse, the blonde nation wasn't sure where to put his hands. At first he had lifted them out of the way as Italy easily perched on his legs and leaned against his chest, but then he no longer knew what to do next. Did he place them on Italy's back in some sort of hug fashion? But what if he placed his hands to high or (and his mind nearly shut down at the thought) they ended up too low? After hopelessly failing at coming to a solution that did not have him unsteadily waving his hands above Italy's back, he settled for attempting to rest them at his sides, but jolted as they brushed against one of the other nation's legs in the process.

If only that was only where his troubles ended, but Germany had no such luck. While he had assumed Italy had been happy, he was now seriously concerned that wasn't the case as the smaller nation pressed his lips against the driving pulse at the blonde's neck. Visions swam before his eyes of Italy's teeth tearing at his carotid and leaving him to slowly bleed out while small marks were dotted across his pale skin. There really was no hope for any sort of rescue.

"How _are_ the two of you doing-?"

A loud thunk resonated from Italy's knife burying itself into the wooden frame of the door hardly an inch from Romano's head. Romano didn't even flinch at his near death encounter, his smile only faltering slightly as he looked over the blade and turned his grin up full force to meet the dark glare he received from his younger brother. "Veneciano," Romano began with a light air that still managed to hold a slight chill, "do we need to have another chat about your unnecessary use of violence?"

Italy held his death glare as he possessively clung to the frozen German. "You interrupted."

Romano took in the slightly compromising scene with a smirk as he adjusted his tinted glasses. "I can see that. Perhaps another time since I'm clearly not needed!" Romano retreated back behind the door, hesitated, and then stuck his head through again. "Unless you are not sure how it works between men."

"Get out!" Italy screamed back, quickly eyeing his surroundings for more ammunition. The closed door did little to stifle the happy giggle that sounded behind it.

Maybe now Germany would no longer be the target of Italy's rage as he studied the fuming nation still in his lap and tried to comfort him by pulling him into a hug. Italy liked hugs in the past, so why not now?

Fuchsia eyes fluttered closed as Italy hummed against Germany's shoulder and wrapped his arms around the other's large torso. Germany glanced down at the nation in his arms and smiled slightly at the sight, glad he had taken the advice given to him.

* * *

"Really, you should have seen them. Completely adorable how Veneciano was wrapped around that macho potato. Adorable I tell you." Romano twisted the cord to the receiver around his fingers as he chatted cheerfully. It was gossiping at its finest and the stylish blonde had the juiciest information for the next week.

"I see." The recipient added carefully and Romano's face practically split as he grinned further.

"We did pretty well getting those to make up. You should have seen how Veneciano moped around the place lately. It was dreary and really took the mood down."

Stilled silence followed Romano's comment, before Japan sighed. "Yes, I believe this should work out of the best."

Romano waited only seconds before he felt the desperate need to talk once again. "You want more details?" he taunted through the phone, knowing full well the other was going to readily agree to hearing more about the current status between the two members of the axis. And Romano easily launched into full descriptions of what he had seen, filling up the afternoon with pointless chatter until Japan pretended there was a problem with his phone and hung up.


	15. Chapter 15

It's not that China wanted to be late. Quite the contrary, he would have preferred it if he arrived on time, but other things always seemed to take precedence over a timely departure. It started when he allowed himself to sleep in later than he probably should have, but it didn't stress him out any. He simply got up, stretched and left his bedroom in search of his morning meal.

At no point were his steps particularly hurried as he walked down the hallway that lead towards the meeting room. Business was occupying the forefront of his mind and he wasn't entirely keen to sit in on the arguing western nations. But, it couldn't be held off forever as he finally stood before the large doors. He sighed at the sign that read "Super Top Secret Allies Meeting Today!" surrounded in bright yellow stars and decided to just get this meeting over with as he pushed his way into the room.

Imagine his surprise when he found the room was empty save for Russia and America. Neither nation paid him too much attention, or perhaps it was that they just didn't want to divert their focus away from their current staring contest. Sat on opposite sides of the table, both nations grinned at one another behind clasped hands and China gulped at how cold the air felt in the room.

"Yo, China, my man." America acknowledged the new comer without turning his head. "Tell this bastard that I'm not nearly as fat as he is."

"Nyet, comrade, explain how I am merely big-boned compared to this pig." Russia added also keeping his eyes trained on to America's blue ones.

China, wisely, chose not to comment.

"Have either of you seen England or France?" he instead asked, glancing to the far corners of the room half expecting to find the missing nations strangling one another in one of them.

America shrugged while Russia shook his head in response to his question and carried on with their previous activity which, although could have used a referee, China didn't want to get involved with. Instead he huffed at the childish actions of the two nations as he pulled his seat out from the table and hoped England would arrive soon. If the last meeting was anything to go by, France would likely not be showing up at all.

But as time dragged on and he was getting bored watching America and Russia, he started to grow worried. Although he was not the British nation's biggest fan, it did seem out of place that he had not arrived well before anyone else. And especially since it had been England to send word of the impromptu meeting, he would have known the date and location.

At long last and just before China was considering leaving in search of something better to do and let the other two nations solve their issues without his company to witness it, the large doors were flung open and produced one grumpy looking Brit dragging behind him a depressed Frenchman. Immediately China jumped to his feet and frowned at them. "Where were you? You are more than an hour late! Do you have any idea how long it takes me to get here?"

England glared back as he released the unhappy France into his usual seat. "I am not the one to blame for being late! All of it rests on this cretin!"

France merely collapsed in his chair in a heap and muttered quietly, "This is what I was saying before. Your personality is like that of a large, raging, hormonal bear. No wonder no one wishes to be near you."

The response caught China off guard, and even Russia looked up in surprise while England marched away fuming towards his own seat at the table. Both of them studied the nation of love carefully, taking in the light pink of his eyes, the snarls and mats of his hair, and the wrinkled state of his clothing and noting how they all were dull and listless opposed to the normally vibrant colors. France shifted a bit, uncomfortable beneath both of their stares and slunk further down into his chair extending a hand in the direction of England's seat. "You promised you would let me have them."

Without a word, England produced a carton of cigarettes and chucked them directly at France's head.

"What exactly is going on?" China cautiously asked, gaze flickering between the two late arrivals in curiosity.

"We found him like that the other day." America chimed in, leaning back in his chair to munch on today's snack of chocolate.

China continued to stare expecting some sort of explanation for what was happening and was displeased when no one seemed more forth coming with information. Russia, however, had no problem asking. "Is France ill?"

"Oh how I wish I was," France began to murmur as he lit up, "then I would be able to avoid being with all of you."

The largest nation giggled. "That's a strange thing to say. You cannot mean something like that."

France tilted his chin up to take in the smiling nation. "Don't mean it, you say? Then perhaps I also don't mean it when I say that it would have been better if you had frozen to death as a child in your own home so that we would not have to be tortured by your very presence now."

Silence followed the Frenchman's statement where no one dared to breathe. Russia was sat completely still with his usual smile in place and they were beginning to think he was going to simply laugh it off until he rose slowly out of his seat, pipe in hand and grinned further down at the dirty blond nation. "Do you mind repeating that, _comrade_. I didn't quite catch all of it."

America leaned over in his seat to loudly whisper to his neighbor, "20 bucks says Russia makes France cry like a baby."

England tsked at the bet. "Please, you haven't spent as much time with him. I'd be willing to place 50 quid on the frog not shedding a tear."

America gave it some quick thought before agreeing, much to the astonishment of an appalled China. "Can we please get somewhere with this meeting so that we can all go home?"

The others seemed to agree to the suggestion, though Russia was a little less willing to do so, and even as he retook his seat, his eyes never left France.

England sat up straighter in his chair as he looked around the room. "Right, so it was America who wanted everyone-"

"Okay, everyone, listen up!" America jumped in, flying out of his seat and leaning over the table. "Folders have all the information in it you need. In it you will see that I have managed to secure the location of where the Axis of Evil will be meeting all together. And I have devised the best strategy to take them down once and for all! England, you-"

"If you say 'back me up' I will throttle you."

America laughed but none the less took the hint. "Right, so France-"

"Will be at home."

America visibly deflated at the other's deviation from his plan. "What? No way! You have to be there to witness the triumph!"

Ash was tapped off the lit end of his cigarette as France responded. "I will be ill and unable to make it."

The American frowned. "You don't look ill."

Light pink eyes rolled inside their owners head. "Another astounding observation by our dimwitted leader."

Awesome heroes did not hurt their allies, America had to remind himself as he tried to move on. "Russia-" the blonde stopped talking as Russia turned his head at his name being addressed and it could still be clearly seen how much on edge he was after France's comment. "Uh, right, you know the drill..."

China's head hit the table before his turn even came.

_AN: Hello everyone! I know, not a whole lot going on in this chapter, but a special news announcement! This fic is nearing triple digits in reviews! I am beyond words astonished and thrilled so I'd like to thank everyone who has made this possible because you all make me smile with your comments. This week I've decided to extend the invitation to everyone, if you would like, to send me anything you would want to see Germany and 2P Italy doing. Whether it is a date you think they should go on, a special occasion, or impromptu shenanigan, I will consider everything everyone sends me and incorporate as many as I can. Again, thank you so much everyone :3 Have a lovely week!_


	16. Chapter 16

"I do not see the point of why you came along as well." Italy grumbled slightly while lounging on his back in the grass.

Romano simply raised an eyebrow from his place on the blanket he had brought along. "Don't be mean. Germany asked for everyone to come along today and that includes me as well."

"I still think it is pointless…" the younger Italian continued to grumble letting his eyes shut against the warm midday sun.

From high above them and hidden within the tree line a blonde watched the exchange before lowering his awesome spy binoculars and frowning in confusion. "It's just Italy having a picnic with some blonde."

France's ears pricked up at the statement. "I'm out. If you need me, and I hope you do not, I will be at home."

England was quick to snatch the dingy looking blonde by the back of his collar before the other had managed to retreat. "Oh no you don't. Stay put!" He ordered and turned his ferocious glare back towards America. "What do you mean, it's only Italy having a picnic? I thought you said the report meant they all would be here?!"

"Perhaps you got it wrong, America." Russia commented in a mocking tone.

America snarled at the smirking Russian before answering the British nation. "That's what it did say! Maybe they are just late…" he added with a bit of uncertainty.

China rolled his eyes and slunk down knowing another argument was inevitable.

"Did you even bother to check if the information was accurate?" England growled, releasing France momentarily to tug on the sleeve to America's bomber jacket.

America ripped his arm away and set his binoculars aside to fully address England's accusations. "Of course I did! How stupid do you think I am?!"

"Incredibly so, you idiot! You've dragged us all out here for nothing!"

"It's not nothing!" America whined, "and we didn't get lost this time!"

"I agree to it not being nothing." France chimed in, even as he was slowly shuffling away.

"Stay out of this!" England rounded on him.

"Gladly." France muttered as he began to search through his pockets for that pack of cigarettes he had remembered to bring along for just such an occasion.

"What do you expect us to do now that we are here?" England continued to complain.

America huffed in frustration. "We could just attack and take them hostage. Italy shouldn't put up much of a fight."

"What good would that do?" he managed to ground out, trying not to recall the state of France and his house after Italy's visit; after all, he wasn't supposed to know in the first place. "He is the weaker member of the axis and it won't do much good." It came out with a little less force, but England was glad that America didn't seem to notice and no one else cared to comment.

"You always hate my ideas!" the younger nation cried, crossing his arms and sticking out his lip into a pout. "It's not fair that you don't want me doing anything."

"Well, maybe if your ideas weren't idiotic wastes of time-"

* * *

From further below, Romano lowered the sandwich he had prepared and tilted his head curiously. "Hey, Veneciao? Do you hear something?"

Italy opened one eye to glare at his older brother. "Like what?"

Romano squinted into the distance towards a certain tree line. "Like voices…"

Italy closed his eye and grumbled. "That's your own voice, stupid."

Romano shook his bleach blonde head. "No, not my own. Others. And they are arguing."

Both of Italy's eyes snapped open as he listened intently, an evil smile slowly overtaking his face. "Fratellone," he smirked up at his elder brother, "it seems we have visitors."

* * *

"And another thing, you wouldn't be anywhere near so overweight if you had remained as one of my colonies."

"That's because I would have starved to death by now!"

"Well, at least you wouldn't be so round!"

"If I may just point out," France interjected, effectively pausing the small fight that had England trying to grab a handful of America's middle and said nation trying to slap his hand away, "that while the two of you were together you loved his food and would continually tell me how much you enjoyed it."

"Dude, don't side with him!"

"Um… everyone…?" This time Russia cut int. "Italy and his friend are looking over here… And waving…"

"What?!" everyone (bar France because he felt no real need to get worked up over it and felt it held some promise he may be able to go home in the near future) exclaimed in unison and turned towards the nation peering through the binoculars he had picked up off the ground.

"Give me those." America snapped, leaping on the tall Russian and wrestling his binoculars away. He muttered a few curses under his breath when he realized Russia was right and ignored the dark chanting that was rising up behind him. "Right, everyone, get into formation!"

Everyone leapt up to rush forward, but had only made it a few steps before realizing they had to go back and collect France from where he was still spread out in the dirt. Once again all together, the group charged through the foliage and the two far below them watched in semi-bored silence as they started their usual routines.

Italy raised an eyebrow at the gathered nations on the hill. "Hmm… Looks like it was only the Allies." His eyes traveled down the line before stopping with a smirk. "Nice to see you again, France." Said nation didn't respond, only burying his hands inside the pockets of his dirty trousers and working away on his lit cigarette.

From beside his younger brother, Romano wiggled his fingers up at the group. "Caio! Come stai?"

China frowned when the blonde spoke and nervously turned to look at the others. "Does he sound familiar to anyone else…?"

Russia nodded. "Da, he does."

England remained silent as soon as he pieced together the voice coupled with the familiar looking scarf and glasses.

"Well, it makes no difference if he does or not," America cut in, stepping forward and pointing down at his opponents. "Listen up you two, you are both going to be captured by us and be our prisoners! So we can do this the easy way or the hard way!"

Italy laughed and licked his lips, "This sounds like fun." while Romano clicked his tongue at the American's words. "He's quite forceful, isn't he?"

"What's it going to be?" their self-appointed leader continued when surrendering didn't occur as soon as it was suggested.

The brothers glanced to one another, shrugged and turned with full grins back up at the Allies. "Well, if you don't think the mighty Allies can take on two unarmed Italians then you are free to leave." Italy taunted while the other smiled warmly.

"You leave me no choice then," America gave them a stern look while pushing his jacket sleeves further up his arms and then jabbing his finger down at them. "Get 'em, China!"

Said nation took a step forward and cast a weary look back. "You never change, do you?"

"No I do not." The American beamed.

Really, he should have seen this coming, but still the brunette nation shook his head and dutifully followed through with the order. At least this time his opponents were fairly weak. Had it been Germany and Japan again he would have worried a little bit more.

Still, he had a job to do and ran forward on light feet towards his unmoving opponent brandishing the wok and ladle he tried to keep on hand at all times. Yes, it may not have seemed the most effective weapons, but by having these items he was also able to prepare meal and possibly sell said meal if need be. That made them multifunctional and much better than having to carry around several things at once.

In a matter of seconds China was on top of the pair and swinging. The blonde lightly skipped away out of range but Italy was smirking and dodging effortlessly, eyes bright and calculating everything. China flinched a bit beneath the unnatural color but pressed forward determined. Wok would swing forcefully and the ladle would follow up with a quick jab; Italy would duck and spin to avoid meeting the iron of the cookware. The number of onlookers grew as several more nations appeared on the field and watched in silent awe at the quick movements of the two battling brunettes.

Eventually Italy's patience paid off and he found his opening when one of China's attacks carried out a bit too far and he ever so slightly lost his balance and left himself unguarded. Putting as much effort as he could into his counter attack, his boot collided with the other's stomach and managed to knock him back several steps; just enough time for Italy to fish out his knife and go on the offensive.

China reacted more out of instinct as he blocked the knife's attacks. The clanging of metal echoed everywhere across the open field and the spectators on the hill began to get nervous for their battling friend. The brunette was still holding his own, but he was now on the defensive and just trying to put some space between himself and his attacker but the knife-wielder was relentless and no sooner would he be able to parry a blow, the next would follow half a second later.

However, he knew he had lost the second the splitting pain tore into his arm. Gasping and flinging a hand over the wound, brown eyes flickered away towards the nearly forgotten blonde twirling a set of throwing knifes through his fingers. With his attention diverted momentarily, Italy was able to knock him down with another sharp kick.

Now lying on his back on the ground, China released his arm and tried to grab at his weapon using his good limb but it was kicked out of range before his fingers could scrape the handle. Wide eyes looked up at the grinning Italian and his voice shook a little as he tried to scoot backwards and ignore the pain that stopped him from attempting to use his injured arm. "I thought you said you were unarmed."

The number of dark grins doubled as the blonde joined them and Italy chuckled. "We lied."

A flurry of movement caused their smiles to fade and they leapt out of the way narrowly avoiding the business end of a metal water pipe and frowned as they looked up at its owner. Russia's usual child-like face looked grimly at them from where he stood protectively in front, while America effortlessly hoisted China up by his uniform and onto his shoulder.

Further away another voice carried over to them. "Git, will you move?!"

Romano sighed seeing as this would mean an end to the hostilities and began to rearrange his scarf and glasses to look more presentable. His younger brother huffed and stood up straight, placing a hand at his waist and idly waving his knife about in the other. "Well, it was fun while it lasted."

Both parties parted ways without any more exchanges and the Allies quickly disappeared beyond the ridge in their hasty retreat (or regroup because it sounds less like defeat). Italy spun on his heel towards the gathered Axis members and flung himself in Germany's direction. "Ciao my macho Germany! Have you come to adore your love interest defending you in battle?" He adhered himself to the blonde's broad chest and ran a finger delicately over the other's jaw line, letting his voice purr into a more lusty tone. "Does violence turn you on, or do you need me to be more gentle?"

Romano practically knocked Japan over while trying to elbow him. "Get your camera ready~!" he practically squealed into the stunned nation's ear.

Prussia stood back from the others, red eyes wary of both of the Italians, and for a rare moment in his life could not think of anything to say in the situation.

_AN: Meh, not sure I do fight scenes any justice... And I've been having a yandere week. *kol kol*  
_

_Until next week, lovely people!_


	17. Chapter 17

After the excitement and disappointment from a particularly long day, America wasn't feeling up for returning home so soon after the Allies had disbanded following their most recent outing. The day was closing and the blonde's normally large and award-winning smile wasn't in place as he took his time getting back. His mind roamed over the day's events again and again trying to find where it had all gone wrong but it was only giving him a headache.

They had carried China most of the way back to the safety of their base despite the brunette's continual protests and was eased into one of the chairs to inspect the damage. England had studied the injury carefully before carefully removing the knife still embedded in his arm and working to stop the bleeding. There was relative silence in the room beyond China's grumbling and England's occasional snap for him to sit still.

Somewhere between where the Axis were and their own territory France had disappeared. It was assumed that he found his opportunity to slip away and head home and no one cared to chase him down anymore for one day.

America had listened quietly to every one of China's complaints and several insults, accepting them all as best he could. He was the hero and it was his job to protect everyone, but that had gone horribly awry so maybe he deserved it. At least Russia and England had kept quiet and hadn't added to the name calling.

A sigh and he ran a hand through his hair as he watched the last rays of light slipping past the horizon. Only a few stars had made their appearance so far and he was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the rest of them. He liked to gaze at the night sky and could name all the constellations above his home. Sometimes he wished he could go and join them. There had to be less rules and obligations, no meetings he needed to attend… less people to disappoint…

Maybe being the hero wasn't everything it was cracked up to be?

America shook his head to help get rid of some of the depressing thoughts and blinked a few times forcing a smile on his face. Instead of lounging around here feeling sorry for himself, he needed to go and do something. Or see someone. Maybe talk it out, be called an idiot and given something to eat. Someone who would willingly let the blonde hero into their home without too much fuss.

Wonder what Canada is doing right now...

With renewed vigor to his steps, America changed course and started briskly heading towards his brother's house. This would be perfect: Canada would let him in, they would make pancakes together, eat until they felt ill and then collapse somewhere asleep with that warm little heater-like polar bear of his. America grinned at his new plan, knowing this would undoubtedly cheer him up.

As the Canadian's modest looking log cabin came into view, his steps slowed down a little as he realized that the windows were dark. It couldn't possibly be late enough for his brother to have gone to bed yet, could it? He made a quick glance at his watch as he easily leapt the steps and landed just in front of the door. He knocked and waited in a semi-patient manner for the other to answer but soon gave up after about a minute and knocked again. Still no answer, he tried a third time, this time using more force to make it louder and eventually resorting to banging on the door like the impatient child he knew he could be.

No one came to answer, and the blonde growled in frustration and hoped off the step to circle around the back where he knew the spare key was hidden. He easily located it underneath the rock by the back door and jammed it into the lock. It was only supposed to be for emergencies, if he recalled the Canadian's warning about using it, but this had to count as one. He was in an emotional crisis that only pancakes with ice cream could fix and what if his brother was lying on the floor somewhere unable to move? Well, then he would need a hero to save the day!

The door swung open to the pitch black house and America faltered in heading inside. "Canada?" he called, trying not to think of what could be lurking around in the dark as he felt the wall for the light switch. The bulbs buzzed to life to reveal an empty room and the American stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Maybe Canada was asleep upstairs?

He began to search through all the rooms, turning on lights to keep anything scary at bay, and calling without a response. Finally he had searched through all the rooms, closets, and beneath the furniture (some of which had been moved around at this point as he had literally picked up things to look underneath them, hopefully Canada wouldn't be too mad later). As far as he could tell, the house was empty as he sat down on the other's bed and thought for a minute. Where would his brother go that he wouldn't know about? America yawned as he lay down on the comforter and snuggled into one of the pillows. Maybe his brother would be home soon.


End file.
